


Crybaby

by dyiansobrien



Category: American Assassin (2017)
Genre: AU, American Assassin AU, F/F, F/M, Small age gap, Smut, alternative universe, bisexual oc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:55:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 67,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29543400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyiansobrien/pseuds/dyiansobrien
Summary: Mitch  Rapp had a mission:  go undercover, work for and gain the trust of multimillionaire Daniel  Lewis,  find   out  what   he's  schemingagainst the government, report back and take him down if needed.What  Mitch Rapp  was  not  expecting  was to practically  become   the   unofficial  personal assistant of Angeline Lewis, the troublesometeenage daughter who is definitely not afraid to speak her mind.
Relationships: Mitch Rapp/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

Her earphones blasted the chilled playlist she had created for the plane; her body clad to a summer dress she'd bought at a boutique in the middle of London. Angeline Lewis had missed the sunshine California provided, her shoulders already growing golden beneath its beams as she tugged her suitcase out the exit of the airport.

A silver Porsche came slowing to a stop towards the teenage girl, causing a small smile to cross her features as she moved towards it, ignoring the crowds of people around her. It came to a stop at the curb and the tinted window rolled down, revealing floppy blond hair and a cocky smirk.

"Bags in the trunk, babe," Levi instructured and jerked his head back where the trunk was automatically opening.

Angeline held back an eyeroll at the way her boyfriend constantly insisted on showing off his luxuries, but hauled the heavy case over anyway and did as she was told. It settled between a couple cases of beer and a half-opened gym bag that had Adidas socks poking out.

She slammed it shut and moved over to the passenger side of the Porsche, sliding into the leather seat. Once she'd adjusted the ditsy-patterned material around her legs, she turned to face Levi, pushing her sunglasses off her face to rest on top of her head.

"Hope you didn't miss me too much," Angeline grinned teasingly, leaning forward and holding his thigh.

She shifted across the gearstick and kissed Levi on the lips, the blond immediately starting to move his lips back against hers roughly. He tasted like the gum that he always smacked on and some of her own cherry lipgloss that was being smudged. As Levi's hand started to glide down towards her ass, Angeline squeezed his thigh and pulled away.

"Yeah, not right now, thanks," she scoffed, flopping back into her seat and smoothing her dress back down again. "I don't feel like getting arrested for public indecency, do you?"

"Depends," Levi grinned. "Do I get to finish before we get arrested?"

Angeline's mouth dropped open and she laughed a little in disbelief, smacking his arm. As Levi started to pull away from the curb, Angeline wiped away at any smeared lipgloss around her lips and then shoved her sunglasses back onto her nose.

"How was London?" Levi finally asked.

"It was fine. Rained a lot."

"So not as good as Cali?"

"Of course not," the brunette scoffed loudly, glancing out the window at all of the beautiful scenery that they passed-- the kind of scenery that she missed when she was in her dreary hometown of concrete and pollution.

Angeline longed to be near the beach where the weather was warmer and the sun was brighter. She hated waking up to grey skies and the sound of traffic. Her heart rested where the sunrises looked like explosions of the most exotic paints on a canvas and the palm trees swayed in unison like a dance.

Angeline adored California and if it meant she had to live with her father to be here, then so be it.

"Where am I dropping you?" Levi asked once they had reached the highway that was leading to Fair Hill. "Do you wanna come back to mine and catch up?"

The girl in the passenger side knew that Levi didn't want to 'catch up' unless 'catch up' was code for having sex in his unmade bed where he would fall asleep straight after until the night where he'd either smoke weed by the pool or head to whoever was hosting the biggest party.

"I shouldn't. I gotta get home and unpack," Angeline disclaimed. "My father's probably expecting me."

If Levi was disappointed then he didn't show it. He simply took the next intersection off of the highway and headed towards the gated community that Angeline was fortunate enough to live behind. Her house was the beautiful mansion at the very end of White Creek Lane, the one with the perfectly trimmed grass and the gates that you need yet another password to get through.

Of course all of the neighbouring homes looked nearly identical, owned by people just as rich as Angeline's father. Daniel Lewis had bought the house around three years ago now, around the time when he started making big bucks from his buisness. It left him with a pick of the grandest homes across the globe, and a mansion in America's golden state sounded far more appealing to him than a penthouse in London.

"Yeah, just right here, thanks."

Levi pulled up outside the gates of her home, opening the trunk with the button his door once again. Before she could leave, he turned to face her and gently grabbed her chin, pulling her face against his as their lips worked together. Angeline pulled back after a few seconds.

"I have to go," she said, sending him a half-assed apologetic smile.

Levi nodded firmly. "I'll see you at Paige's party, then."

"Obviously."

The brunette climbed out of the car and grabbed her suitcase from the back, watching as the Porsche waited not even a second before driving off. She huffed, not really knowing what to think of her small reunion with the boy she hadn't seen in three or so weeks.

Levi Edwards was captain of the soccer team at school. He was a blond floppy-haired jock with a dazzling smile and the kind of jawline that girls had Instagram pages dedicated to back in 2014. He was attractive and he wasn't bad when it came to the bedroom department, so Angeline kept him around. Otherwise, she considered him a complete clout chaser and not the smartest cookie in the box.

Angeline buzzed herself in and moved up the long driveway of her home, sending a small smile to one of the gardeners working on the flowers near the fountain. She hauled the suitcase up the stairs that led to her front door and opened it, revealing an empty foyer.

"I'm home," she called, unsurprisngly elliciting no response.

She lugged the suitcase up the stairs to her bedroom. It was smaller than her father's room and a bit smaller than her brother's too, but it was still big. Far larger than the one in her mother's penthouse in London. It had a walk-in wardrobe and a king sized bed, immaculate cream carpets and her belongings all sat on pristine furniture that matched.

Angeline tossed her luggage on top of the bed before her phone buzzed inside her pocket.

PAIGE: welcome home bitch. party's at nine.

Angeline grinned down at her phone, immediately typing a response back to her best friend. Parties at Fair Hill were never small. It was always a bunch of rich kids in a mansion with unlimited access to alcohol and even drugs, untouchable by the cops who were always tipped off by even richer parents.

"Look what the cat dragged in."

The brunette glanced over her shoulder, rolling her eyes at the man standing in the doorway. His crystal orbs were staring her down with the usual smirk written across his face, hair gelled back neatly like always and his body clad in his usual half-unbuttoned shirt and jeans.

"Elliot," Angeline acknowledged her older brother with a small nod. "What do you want?"

Elliot shrugged from where he was leaning against her door frame, his strong arms folded against his chest. His amused smile seemed to leave his face as he blinked and pursed his lips, pushing himself away from the wood.

"How was London?"

"You mean how was mum?" She sneered back, continuing to unpack her belongings from her suitcase. "Yeah, she felt pretty shit when I told her you weren't coming because you'd rather stay and help dad with his shitty business."

"That shitty business is the reason you're standing in a multimillion dollar mansion right now," the blue-eyed boy replied wittily, staring around her room. "But whatever, trash dad's business all you want. You'll be the one that inherits nothing."

"Whoopie for me," Angeline grinned back sarcastically. "If you have no more questions for me then you can go back to sucking dad off in your little meeting room-"

"Shut your mouth," Elliot growled, fists clenching and his face growing red as he stomped closer, standing on the other side of Angeline's bed. "It was quiet until you got home. Just stay out of the way and don't talk about things you don't understand."

Right, because my female brain is way too tiny to comprehend that you and dad are just complete fucking assholes.

Angeline just stood there, lips pursed and her chest heaving with anger. She always struggled to keep her mouth shut, always wanting to one up whoever she was arguing with and prove them wrong, but there was no winning this one. Elliot was their father's favourite-- he always had been.

Her older brother stared her down for only a couple more seconds before he stormed off out the door, slamming it behind him. Angeline sighed, rubbing her forehead with her hand as she glanced around the room she hadn't been in for nearly a month. Her brown eyes landed on her closet door and she smiled a little.

She had a party to get ready for. 

...

There were two reasons that Paige Jones was the most popular girl at school. For starters, she was drop dead gorgeous. There was not a single flaw on her body, her porcelain skin home to delicate features that were all natural, and she had the kind of golden hair every girl envied. She was never not rocking a bold lipstick, tonight choosing red to go with the tiny dress she was wearing.

The second reason she was so popular was because everybody knew she threw the best parties in Fair Hill. Her house was huge, nearly as big as Angeline's, and her parents were always out of town-- leaving them full access to the bar and smoke machines. Music was blasting loudly throughout the entire building, all sorts of drinking games going on and people jumping in and out of the pool outside.

Angeline glanced around with a grin, looking around for her friends. She'd turned up half an hour late as usual, smiling gratefully at all of her classmates who were greeting her as she walked through the foyer. Neon lights cast over her every now and then, making it somewhat difficult to see.

"Angel!" She heard Paige's squeal before she saw her.

Moments later, Angeline was being tugged into a tight hug. Angeline wrapped her arms around the other teenage girl, jumping up and down slightly, careful not to fall over in the heels she wore. Paige pulled her away at arms length and Angeline caught a whiff of weed from the girl, mixed with the Chanel perfume she always wore.

"I missed you so much," Paige exclaimed, leading her over to the bar where she helped herself to a couple red solo cups, filling them up with what Angeline assumed was cider. "Seriously, it was so boring with just Grace and Ciara. Don't tell them that, though."

Angeline mimicked zipping her lips shut with a small giggle before she accepted the cup and took a couple of swigs. It was a fruity cider, the cool liquid refreshing her mouth and slightly fizzing as it slid down her throat and warmed her body.

"Trust me, I didn't have much fun either," Angeline replied, leaning against the bar next to Paige as they glanced around the room, inspecting everyone. "Well, I mean, I shopped a lot. Look at this cute ring I got at Harrods."

Paige clasped her friend's hand and lifted it up, finding a rose gold Cartier band wrapped around Angeline's ring finger. She gasped, flipping it over.

"So cute," Paige agreed.

"Oh, Angel!" Angeline heard the singing voice of Grace Lakesfield, causing her to turn.

The dark-skinned girl was approaching fast, a beaming smile on her face. Her black curls had been updated with caramel highlights over spring break, bouncing behind her as she tugged Angeline into a tight hug. Grace pulled back with a grin.

"How was your spring break?" She called over the music before her eyes landed on Caira standing talking to some girl a few feet away. "Ciara! Look who's here!"

Ciara's face lit up, gasping as she pushed away from the teenage girl and started to stumble over. Angeline giggled at the realisation that her Korean-American friend was already drunk as she took her into a quick hug.

"You look stunning, Angel," Ciara smoothed her hands down Angeline's bare arms, inspecting the black dress she wore before her hands started to fiddle with her curled hair.

Angeline chuckled. "Thanks, Ci. You look beautiful, too."

As soon as Angeline had started at Fair Hill High half way through the first semester of sophomore year, she'd been taken under the wing of the school's 'it girls'. The four had been inseparable ever since, the three even coming to London with her sometimes over the summer when the weather was actually decent.

"Holy shit, I love this song!"

Angeline ditched her cup at the bar and grabbed Grace, the two of them moving to the living room where everybody was dancing to evacuate the dancefloor. The brunette hadn't heard this song for years, but she remembered loving it when she was in primary school and requesting it at the school disco. Now, everything was much realer- her system buzzing a little from the alcohol and her petite frame surrounded by hundreds of first class high schoolers.

Grace and Angeline laughed as they wrapped their arms around each other, swaying their hips to the catchy beat. When a member of the soccer team attempted to plant his hands on Grace's hips she swatted him away, shooting him a glare so fierce that if looks could kill, he would totally be six foot under. Angeline bit her lip and grinned, feeling Paige and Ciara join in around them.

The song ended and a different one started to play, a Rihanna one. They danced to what felt like hundreds of songs, picking up cup after cup of alcohol and making the most of the night.

Angeline was half way through yelling lyrics to her friends when she caught sight of a familiar mop of blond hair across the dancefloor, getting lost every now and then in the crowds. The bass was so loud that it vibrated through Angeline's bones, her body feeling electric as she started to head over.

She paused when she saw that Levi wasn't with his friends or by himself, but practically grinding against a girl in the grade below them, his hands on her hips and his bottom lip between his teeth. Angeline felt anger pulse through her, her fists clenching by her sides. She waited for Levi to glance up, his brown eyes widening in fear when he saw her stood there simply staring.

His grip immediately released the junior girl and he started to head after her, calling her stupid nickname. Angeline was already weaving throughout her classmates, wanting to find her friends for backup. His hand planted down on her shoulder before she could reach them, causing her to whirl around.

Angeline grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight, the captain of the soccer team screeching and pulling away. Levi looked at her, horrified, holding his injured body part.

"Awh, did that hurt?" Angeline feigned a pout. "You're lucky I don't do it to your fucking dick!"

Levi winced. "Okay, okay. I get that that looked kind of suggestive, but-"

"It's not what I think, right?" The teenage girl guessed, shaking her head when Levi nodded unsurely.

"It didn't mean anything," he blurted.

"Tell me if this means anything, Levi," Angeline stepped closer, her voice gravely low yet still loud over the pounding music in their ears. "We're over."

She raised the red solo cup in her hand and threw it over his shocked face, the expression melting off into one of anger and disbelief. Angeline grinned widely at all of the cider staining his white shirt red and his blond hair sticking to his forehead. His jaw hung open as he looked down at her, about to say something when Paige stepped between the two.

"You heard her, asshole," Paige glared, pushing him back by the chest, one arm wrapped around Angeline's shoulders. "Angel said fuck off. I suggest you listen to her."

Angeline fluttered her fingers at him before the pair linked arms and started to move away from him. She could hear some students laughing around them, not at the two teenage girls but at the boy standing there covered in alcohol and embarrassed. Her chest felt slightly heavier than it did at the start of the night, but she tried to push away the shitty feeling.

Levi was nothing but an airhead. He could barely solve basic math questions-- he was no match for Angeline anyway. She knew he was never going to be a long term thing anyway, just a distraction, except it didn't feel good to be cheated on. It was a bit of a confidence knocker, if the brunette was being honest.

Grace was shoving another drink in her hand as a rap song started playing. "Drink this and forget that ass," she slurred before she sighed. "That really hot, cute, adorable ass-"

"Okay, she gets it, Grace," Paige glared, peeling her arm from Angeline's shoulders and glancing down at the short girl. "Trust me, Angel. He'll get what's coming, I'll make sure of it."

"Enough about Levi," Angeline hummed. "He can suck my fucking dick if he thinks I care."

"Yes, bitch!" Ciara squealed, clapping her hands together as Angeline tipped the red solo cup back and downed all of the drink inside.

She winced once she'd finished, her throat and chest burning. Angeline wasn't completely sure, but she thought it was definitely vodka and coke. Ciara always tended to go a little overboard on the spirit too, so she knew there was no way she wasn't waking up tomorrow with a huge hangover. One that her father would probably kill her for.

It felt like hours she danced with her friends, forgetting all about the boy across the room who was already making a move on the girl he had been caught with. Beer pong was her game, so she spent ages on a team with Paige defeating whoever dared challenge them, requesting her favourite music with the DJ that Paige had hired and snacking on the crisps laid out.

Angeline hated men-- all of them. Her father, her brother, Levi Edwards. As far as she was concerned, none of them deserved rights, not a single one. Not even the barista that made her coffee before school every morning. If every man banished from the planet over night, Angeline was pretty sure that she wouldn't shed a single tear. In fact, she would probably jump for joy.

Fuck Levi Edwards.

At least that's what she kept repeating to herself as she stormed home that night, wrapped in her own arms and tears streaming down her face. She sniffled, shaking her head and trying to pretend that she wasn't freezing cold. All her friends had found people to hook up with, but that wasn't on Angeline's list of things to do.

She just wanted to go home to the bed she hadn't slept in in nearly a month and sleep off the alcohol in her system and the thoughts of Levi swirling in her brain. Her ears still rang from the music that had been pounding all night long, her body swaying as she staggered down the pavement, her heeled shoes tucked between her fingers.

It only took ten minutes to get home and she buzzed herself in, spending another five minutes just making it up the drive. Angeline only prayed that the sprinklers didn't switch on since it wouldn't be the first time and she definitely didn't need that tonight.

Once she made it to the front door she unlocked it, finding all of the lights still on. She assumed her father and brother were working late and sighed, tucking her long hair behind her ears as she started to climb the staircase. The marble was freezing beneath her feet but she had stopped with the tears a long time ago, her eyes now rimmed with black mascara.

Suddenly, Angeline collided with someone, sending her staggering back a little. The heels dropped from her hands but before she could go down with them, a large hand reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her up right. She gasped, quickly looking up to find an unfamiliar man stood in the middle of the hallway, glancing at her with a small frown.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice not incredibly deep but still quite rough.

Even in her drunk state, Angeline knew she had never met this man before in her life, because if she had, she certainly wouldn't forget a face like his. He had to be in his early twenties, about six foot tall with an athletic build, his biceps slightly bulging out of the tight black t-shirt that he was wearing. His hazel eyes were inspecting her, his dark, shaggy hair framing his face which seemed to have perfect bone structure.

Angeline was in awe before she realised that she had been staring a second or two too long. She immediately ripped her arm from his grip and glared, reaching down to grab her shoes off of the ground.

"Who the hell are you?" Angeline huffed, adjusting the bag on her shoulder.

Only then did she realise that she must look like a complete mess, her fingers darting out in an attempt to clean some of the mascara from underneath her eyes. She hoped it worked and she didn't just rub it in even more.

"I'm Mitch Rapp," the man introduced himself, offering her his hand which she reluctantly shook-- he had huge hands. "You must be Angeline Lewis. I work for your father."

Angeline stared at him for a moment or two. "At two in the morning?"

"What's going on?"

There was the man himself. Daniel Lewis screamed privilege and wealth, never seen in anything but a suit and tie, his hair always gelled back professionally and never a shadow on his face. He glanced between Mitch and Angeline.

He'd come out of the meeting room that Angeline wasn't allowed to go inside of, not that she really cared. Angeline would rather gouge her eyes out then sit around and listen to her brother and father talk about business things.

Before Mitch could talk, Angeline gestured to him. "Who's he?" She asked bluntly.

"That's Rapp, Angeline," Mr Lewis sighed, less than thrilled that his work had been interrupted. "He's working with Renolds and Winston in a part of our new security team."

"Great, another man in the house," Angeline muttered bitterly underneath her breath, but Mitch had heard her. "Why the hell do we need more security, dad? Is two strange men living in our house not enough?"

"When your business is expanding, you have to expand in other areas too, Angeline," her father spoke condescendingly before he seemed to realise the state that she was in. "And, you know, it would have been nice for you to greet me for the first time in a month sober."

Angeline just huffed, tightening her grip on her bag. "Can I go now?"

"Yes," he excused her as she began to head to her bedroom door before he started to talk to Mitch. "Don't mind her. She's always angry about something, never happy."

"Asshole," Angeline whispered to herself and slammed the door shut.

She closed her eyes and stood in the stillness of her room, swaying slightly. Fuck Levi. Fuck Elliot. Fuck her dad. Fuck Renolds. Fuck Winston. And lastly, fuck whoever this Mitch Rapp guy is. 

...


	2. Chapter 2

The weekend that followed went far too quickly for Angeline's liking, the short brunette dreading her return to school on Monday. Fair Hill High was one of the best high schools in California, a private school filled with the children of Hollywood stars and future CEOs of worldwide businesses.

Not only that, it was artificial as fuck.

Angeline stuck to her three best friends for that very reason. Every week there appeared to be a new drama, friends for life switching sides to whichever was going to come out smelling like roses and more often than not parents getting involved.

This week Angeline and Levi's dramatic breakup at Paige's party was the biggest scandal. Eyes were on her as soon as the brunette pulled up in the carpark, faint whispers echoing as she kept her chin high and moved towards the main entrance of the large building.

Whatever they were saying, Angeline didn't want to hear it. She had far better things to be focused on, like the fact that senior prom tickets went on sale last night or that it was her birthday in two weeks. Even the freshmen were gossiping, blatantly pointing her out to their friends who might not know who the senior girl was.

"News spreads like wildfire," Angeline grumbled to herself.

"Angel!"

She rolled her eyes when she heard the voice of Jackson Brown yelling after her. Angeline didn't bother to glance over as she heard his trainers smack on the concrete ground in an attempt to catch up with her. He reeked of cologne, the smell causing Angeline's nose to scrunch up once he was in a three feet radius.

"I must say," Jason called as he tried to keep up with her. "You're looking extra gorgeous today, Angel."

The brunette raised her brows, adjusting the bag on her shoulder as she walked through the double doors.

"Thanks, Jason," Angeline replied, bored.

"So... now that you and Levi are over—"

"Oh," Angeline paused in her tracks and laughed a little. "No thanks. Have a good day though."

She barely stayed to watch as Jackson's face scrunched up in disbelief, listening to the squeak squeak of his trainers as he headed in another direction.

Angeline has been sure to wear a cute slip dress for the first day back after spring break, the black material patterned by minimalist dragons and extremely thin straps that sat on top of a white tee. She'd added one of her favourite belts to cinch her waist as small as possible. The Doc Martens on her feet were already killing her, but it was worth it to look good.

Angeline's brown eyes drifted around the hallway as she moved. She saw a flash of bleached hair and a smile erupted on her face, speeding up to catch up with Ciara. She linked arms with the slightly taller girl, the pair walking together.

"Hey, girlie," Ciara greeted. "Paige said you went shopping yesterday?"

"Yep," Angeline smiled. "It was okay. I was forced into eating at that fancy vegan place she likes, though."

Ciara's face scrunched up. "Oh God. I'm so sorry."

"I just pigged out when I got home," she shrugged.

Her eyes landed on curls with caramel highlights and an outfit so pink that Regina George would be raging with jealousy if she ever saw it. Grace beamed femininity, never wearing anything but the colour— it was Grace's thing.

"'Ello, 'ello, 'ello," Grace greeted them in an English accent so bad it caused Angeline's face to scrunch up. "Oh, come on. I'm getting better."

Angeline raised her eyebrows. "Who told you that? A deaf person?"

Ciara giggled at Grace's crestfallen expression, the three of them heading to Paige's locker where they knew they'd find the Queen Bee herself.

Sure enough, the blonde beauty stood outside her locker, lips parted as she applied a berry-coloured lipstick in the mini mirror she'd attached inside. Surrounding the mirror were polaroids of the four girls, plus a couple of business cards for salons she went to.

Paige's eyes landed on her friends and she screwed the cap to her lipstick back up and flung it into her bag, beaming at the three teenage girls.

"I assume you guys have heard." Paige jerked her head towards the shortest of the bunch, making Angeline frown.

"Everybody's talking about you and Levi, Angel," Grace noted somewhat worriedly. "I've only been in school ten minutes and I've heard your name about seven different times."

Angeline shrugged dismissively. "They can say whatever the fuck they want about me. Doesn't make it true."

"But it makes you look bad." Paige rolled her blue eyes. "It makes us all look bad. Trust me, by the end of the day everybody's gonna know who dumped who."

The brunette sighed. "Yeah, whatever. You know what? I think I'm done with teenage boys."

"Teenage girls?" Ciara suggested with a wink, the two of them smirking at each other with little laughs.

"Teenage girls are fine," Angeline replied. "The boys? No. If I get with another male, he sure as hell has to be a grown man this time."

Paige smirked. "Your dad's head of security is hot as fuck."

The brown-eyed girl looked horrified. "Winston's nearly fifty. Not that old. I meant, like, twenty-five maximum."

"Pussy," Paige sang. "Oh, come on. You cannot tell me that if you were just sunbathing one day and he came over and was like 'oh, Angel. You're so hot!' you wouldn't let him hit it."

Angeline appeared appalled by Paige's words, her mouth slightly hung open. "Um... yes, actually. I wouldn't let him 'hit it'. I'd actually call him a pedophile and kick him in the fucking balls."

"Are you sure you're just bi?" Grace interjected. "I think you might be full lesbian, you know. He's so hot. Like, he could be Brad Pitt's twin or something."

"Winston is not fit!" Angeline practically yelled, earning a few strange looks from students that were passing by. "He's grumpy and he's just some old white dude that works for my dad-- and anyone that works for my dad is sick in the head."

"I don't get why you hate your dad so much," Ciara admitted. "He's so cool."

"Or Elliot," Grace added. "He's hot too."

"Oh my God." Angeline covered her face with her hands for a moment. "Yeah, you're totally right. I should just like my brother 'cause he's hot and my dad 'cause he made some shitty app everyone likes."

The bell rang from above them, indicating the start of their first lesson back since spring break. Angeline nearly sighed in relief, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag as she straightened her back and flipped her straight hair over her shoulder.

"I'll catch you at lunch."

...

"Look, look, look."

Angeline frowned as she was yanked quickly by Grace, the dark-skinned girl rushing towards the cafeteria. Pushing the doors open, the two girls were plunged into a large room filled with silent students, all watching Elijah, one of the soccer boys, stand on top of one of the tables with a huge sign in his hand that read 'prom?'

"Say yes!" Someone yelled and Angeline was somewhat disappointed that she had just missed his promposal speech-- since it was Paige he was asking, there had most likely been top effort put into it.

Paige had already rejected two boys today, and one of them had bought her a bouquet of roses and chocolates. She still took the goods, but said it was a hard pass. The blonde herself stood in front of the table, her arms folded across her chest as she stared down Elijah, sizing him up.

"Fine," Paige replied after an agonizingly long time, causing the cafeteria to erupt into applause and cheers.

Angeline smiled a little and clapped along, heading over to Paige once the crowds had all dispersed. "Elijah Wheeler?" She hummed teasingly.

"Just because you're done with teenage boys, doesn't mean I have to be," she grinned, her smile faltering when she looked behind Angeline and saw Levi approaching. "Speaking of teenage boys," Paige grimaced. "What the hell do you want, dickhead?"

Levi stopped beside the two girls and looked at Paige confused. "I came over to talk to Angel, if you don't mind."

"I do mind--"

"I think I said everything that needed to be said on Friday," Angeline cut the blonde off. "You can go back to the junior girl from Paige's party and I'll do my own thing. By myself."

"Oh, come on, Angel-"

"Don't call me that," the short brunette hissed. "Don't talk to me at all, Levi. I know what you think. You think I'll just come crawling back after you mutter some half-assed apology because you think I can't live without you and that I'm so lost without you. Newsflash, Levi! My life doesn't revolve around you, it never did, and it never will. But thank you, honestly. You really opened my eyes up to how fucking shit teenage boys really are."

Levi stared at her for a few moments, mouth opening and closing like some sort of fish. Before he could say anything again, Angeline lifted a finger to silence him.

"It's honestly just better that you don't say anything and don't embarrass yourself," she whispered, cocking her head to the side before she moved away, leaving the blond soccer captain standing there in shock.

"You told him," Grace whispered happily as they walked away dramatically.

"I know," Angeline giggled quietly, making sure he didn't see her expression change as the four girls waltzed out of the cafeteria. 

...

Angeline stood at the edge of the swimming pool in her backyard, a net in her hand as she attempted to claw out some of the leaves that had fallen inside. Her tan skin was clad in a mustard yellow bikini, complimenting her honey eyes and mahogany hair which was sprawled out across her shoulders.

It was far too hot out to be sitting inside studying, so Angeline thought a swim in the pool was due. She hadn't swam for nearly three weeks so she had missed the cool water against her skin as the sun beat down on her. When she was in London, it felt like all she had done was sit at home or go shopping whilst she watched her friends hang out at the beach with ice creams and iced coffees.

"We have a pool boy for that, you know," Elliot's loud voice boomed in Angeline's ears.

The brunette glanced up, nearly losing her balance as she continued to fish about for the leaves. Elliot was in just his swimming trunks, his usual dog tag necklace around his neck and his designer sunglasses on his face. She huffed and rolled her eyes upon realising that he was planning on spending his afternoon outside too.

"He's trimming the hedges out front," Angeline replied. "Besides, I can do it myself."

"Who cares if he's trimming bloody hedges?" Elliot laughed. "If you tell someone to do something, they do it. That's their job, Angeline. Dad doesn't pay them for nothing."

"Maybe I don't like to take advantage of peoples' kindness," Angeline grumbled under her breath so that her older brother couldn't hear.

Elliot was now sprawled out in one of the deck chairs, sunbathing. Her brother really was something special.

They used to get on fine; like normal siblings they were always either hot or cold, trying to tear each other's heads off or watching films together for hours on end. When Elliot left school and started working with their father, he became a lot more distant.

Angeline knew he thought he was so much better than her.

The twenty-one year old was more than eager to work with their father on their tech business. Her father was like the less cooler and far ruder version of Tony Stark-- he invented things and sold them for far more than they were really worth. He also owned lots of popular apps, like NewsFlash and a video sharing website called NowLive, which was quickly becoming as popular as YouTube.

Elliot wanted in on it, but Angeline didn't. Whilst he planned on inheriting daddy's money, Angeline planned on making it herself. She was set to leave for Harvard in summer, which she had worked her ass off for, and afterwards she never wanted to see Elliot or her dad again.

She was eighteen in about two weeks. If she didn't have such high ambitions, she'd leave as soon as her birthday hit, but there was no point when college was right around the corner. Plus, if her father cancelled her credit card, she was fucked and back to London it would be.

"You're gonna fall," Elliot deadpanned.

Angeline glanced up to see that he was perched up, sunglasses pulled down a little. Whenever he wasn't working the family business or working out in the home gym, Elliot was pestering her. He probably only put his trunks on and came down to sunbathe just because he saw her.

"I'm not going to fall," Angeline snapped back as she scooped what seemed to be the last of the leaves out of the pool. "I have impeccable balance. Years of ballet, gymnastics, and karate."

Angeline and Elliot were the kind of kids that were forced to do nearly every extra curricular growing up. She did ballet, karate, archery, swimming, gymnastics, soccer, and took up Spanish and German too, amongst other things. Growing up, she was never not busy.

"Does karate even have anything to do with balance? And I swear you only got a yellow belt."

"Yes," the short girl huffed, chucking the net backwards onto one of the sunbeds. "And no. I was a black belt actually."

Elliot scoffed. "Sure."

Angeline glared. "Why don't you come over here and I'll kick your ass to fucking prove-"

"Sorry to interrupt."

Both siblings' eyes snapped in the direction of their father's latest security recruit, Mitch, stood in the doorway of the Lewis household. His hazel eyes flickered to where Angeline was standing by the pool and then back to Elliot, focusing on the man rather than the teenage girl. Once they started talking business, Angeline just rolled her eyes and jumped into the pool, creating a small splash that got Elliot wet.

"Hey!" The dirty-blond haired boy roared, leaning back and holding his arms out in shock. "I was talking, dipshit!"

Angeline laughed and then began to float on her back. "Aww, poor Elliot got a wittle wet. You're in swimming trunks, dumbarse! You're meant to, y'know, swim in them."

She didn't hear Elliot laugh back, not that she thought he would. Angeline floated back up and swam to the edge of the pool closest to the two men, resting her chin on her hands on the edge and watching them talk whilst she kicked her legs slowly.

Angeline's gaze trailed across Mitch. She'd only seen him walking around the house a couple of times since they'd met last Friday, and he seemed like a pretty serious guy, even if he was only one or two years older than her brother. Angeline automatically didn't like him much-- he worked for her dad, so how good could he really be?

It didn't stop her staring though. Even through his black t-shirt, Angeline could tell that he was probably really muscular underneath and his jawline was even more impressive than Levi's, home to some scruff that had grown since she met him three days ago. Mitch Rapp was good looking- there was no denying it.

Oh, God. Wait until Paige and Grace see him. Ciara's a lesbian and she might even find herself lost for words.

When it looked like they were finishing talking, Angeline spoke up. "Elliot, come swim with me." She started to do small breast strokes around the pool.

When she was blatantly ignored, she smirked, elegantly swimming towards them. "Hey, Mitch," Angeline teased. "You come swim with me instead."

Angeline loved to make grown men feel uncomfortable-- she did it all of the time.

Mitch seemed to barely react, his gaze flickering to her where his lips parted, before he looked back at her brother. Her father had definitely done the whole rundown with him that he did with all of his staff- ignore Angeline, only take commands from himself or Elliot.

"The water's fine!" The brunette laughed, swimming back onto her back and floating. "Come on, Elliot, I won't actually karate chop you."

"Shut it, Angeline," Elliot growled before he looked to Mitch. "Rapp, you can leave."

"Bye, Mitch!" Angeline sang, fluttering her fingers as she watched the man retreat back into the house, leaving just her and Elliot. "God, you're so boring Ellie."

"Don't call me that, and in case you weren't listening, your car's being taken into the garage tomorrow morning for routine checkup," Elliot snapped.

Great. Angeline made a mental note to text Paige or Ciara for a ride in the morning, except of course she ended up forgetting. A decision that might cause a ripple of new feelings.


	3. Chapter 3

"Miss Lewis."

The brunette softly groaned, yanking the covers wrapped around her even higher. One of her legs was above it, basking in the cool air that the AC in her bedroom provided. Last night had been so warm that she had tossed and turned for hours, making the brunette actually contemplate sleeping in the bathtub.

"Go away," she mumbled when she heard the voice call her name again. "I'm asleep."

"If you were asleep, I don't think you would be talking to me."

Angeline's eyes snapped open when she realised that it wasn't her brother or father trying to wake her up. She probably should have realised when they called her 'Miss Lewis' rather than her first name, but her sleep deprived brain hadn't even acknowledged it at the time.

Mitch was standing beside her bed, dressed in his usual black shirt and dark blue jeans, his arms folded against his chest and a neutral expression written across his face.

Angeline nearly jumped out of her skin, sitting up and pulling the covers over her chest. Thankfully, she hadn't been hot enough to sleep naked last night, but she had been hot enough to wear the smallest crop top and cotton shorts she owned.

"I apologise for coming into your room, Miss Lewis, but you weren't waking up when I knocked your door," Mitch's rough voice filled her ears as she looked around, confused and dazed. "Mr Lewis told me to wake you."

"Wha- What time is it?" The brunette questioned, unsure why the house was so silent when normally in the mornings it was filled with her father yelling down the phone whilst he got ready to go to his main office.

"Eleven in the morning, Miss Lew-"

"Oh my God, please stop calling me that," Angeline cut him off, brown eyes widening when she realised what he had said. "Awh, bloody hell. I'm so fucking late."

Mitch's lips parted in shock when the teenage girl scrambled out of the covers, darting over to her closet. All he saw was a flash of skin and the smallest pyjama set in the world, causing his head to immediately flip away. Mitch cleared his throat awkwardly to remind her that he was still in the room, turning his back to the closet where she was searching for clothes.

"Mr Lewis instructed that I call you 'Miss Lewis.'" Mitch tried to ignore the fact that he had just seen Angeline practically naked.

"I don't care what my dad says." He heard her faint grumbles. "Y'know he doesn't believe in taxing the rich? You shouldn't take anything he says seriously."

Mitch smiled faintly, a small breath coming from his nose. Angeline really was something... different; a huge contrast to her father and brother who had been pushing him around nonstop since he started working for them nearly four weeks ago now.

Mr Lewis had warned Mitch about Angeline. He said she wanted nothing to do with the family business, that she was ungrateful for how hard they worked, and only ever messed around with her friends.

So far, upon meeting the teenage girl, Mitch had made a few assumptions. Angeline wasn't ungrateful for the money, she just didn't think it was everything. She seemed happiest when she teased her brother and Mitch yesterday at the pool, so he guessed she was honestly just looking for some attention in a family that didn't really care about each other at all.

"I suppose my dad said you're dropping me to school today?" Angeline asked, moments later retreating from her closet dressed in a ditsy summer dress and some white converse.

Mitch gave her a short nod. "Yes... Angeline."

"Hey, that's better." She grinned at him before she grabbed a few things from her vanity. "I need to use the bathroom, I'll be down by the car in ten minutes maximum."

"Okay. Don't be late." 

... 

The car ride was mostly silent, Mitch paying attention to the road whilst Angeline did her makeup in the sunvisor's mirror. He was slightly amazed at how she managed to apply her mascara with no mistakes, even when they hit potholes. She'd turned the music in the car up and hummed along, her gentle voice filling the vehicle.

"Looks like you're just in time for lunch," Mitch mentioned as he pulled up towards the front of the school, looking out at all of the teenagers walking around.

Most of them seemed to be wearing designer outfits, their bags all branded and their shoes brand new as they walked around the campus beside the car park filled with sports cars Mitch could only ever dream of owning. He'd gone to a private school himself, but nothing like this.

This seemed like something out of a movie.

"Yep," Angeline chirped, spotting three girls waiting by the entrance where she had told them to. "Thanks, Mitch."

Mitch raised his brows a little. "You're welcome. Just doing my job."

"Pretty sure your job isn't to drive teenage girls to school."

"My job is to follow your father's orders and make sure you and your brother are kept safe at all times," Mitch replied. "Dropping a teenage girl off to school may be part of that."

Angeline chuckled, shaking her head as she opened the door. "You're not as boring as my dad's other security."

"Thanks?" He said uncertainly, watching as she grabbed her bag off of the seat and shut the door behind her.

Angeline bounded towards her best friends, laughing nervously when she saw the expression written across Paige's face. Her mouth was hung open in shock and she unfolded her arms from across her chest.

"Who. The. Hell. Was. That?" Paige's eyes finally left the vehicle as Mitch peeled away from the curb and started to drive back to the Lewis residence.

"Oh my God, please tell me you hooked up with him," Grace squealed, grabbing Angeline's arm. "Is that why you're late? Round two the morning after?"

"Look at him!" Paige huffed. "If it was my way, it wouldn't be round two. It would round ten."

Angeline stared between the two of them with furrowed brows. "Urm... no. He's the new guy I told you guys about. Mitch. I woke up late so my dad made him drop me in."

"Angel, he's the not-teenage-boy that you need," Ciara smirked.

"Yeah... Mitch is hot as fuck, but I'd rather have somebody that doesn't work for my dad." Angeline deadpanned.

"But that's so hot!" Grace sighed dreamily as she thought about it. "Sneaking around your brother and your father. You'd be, like, sneaking into the security wing for a quickie or he could wake you up an hour before the rest of your family and--"

The brunette cut her off. "He's so serious. He kept calling me 'Miss Lewis' and now he calls me 'Angeline', like my dad and my brother."

"Angel and Mitch, sitting in a tree-" Ciara was cut off by Angeline's hand clamping on her mouth, silencing her.

A couple of students that had been walking by heard and looked over at them strangely. Paige felt fury run through her veins, the idea of the four of them being anything less than respected and desired physically hurting her.

"What are you? Eight?" Paige glared at Ciara.

"Eight inches deep in your mom," Ciara quoted the vine they used to love when they were twelve, causing Angeline to snort.

When the blonde-haired girl's glare intensified on both of them this time, Angeline shrunk back and sighed, running her hand through her hair. She was glad she'd slept in plaits last night so at least it looked like she had attempted some sort of style when she woke up extremely late this morning.

"Dickheard alert," Grace suddenly sang, making Angeline glance where she was looking.

Levi was approaching, Angeline nearly rolling her eyes at the sight. The blond-haired boy wore some blue jeans and a navy Ralph Lauren jumper, a cocky glint in his brown eyes as he stopped right in front of her.

"Angel. You. Me. Senior Prom."

Angeline snorted loudly, folding her arms and taking a step back so she could glance up at him properly.

"Confident approach?" Angeline hummed. "It doesn't really work for you. You just look like a dick when I say no."

Levi's expression fell a little. "If you'd answer my calls, Angel, then you'd know how sorry I am and how hard I'm really trying here. I know I messed up--"

"I've already got a date," Angeline interrupted him.

Levi stared at her for a moment or two, clearly not believing her. "I thought you said you were done with teenage boys?"

"Who said it was a boy?" The brunette huffed.

Without thinking, she reached out to Ciara and grabbed the Korean-American girl's wrist, gently pulling her closer and closing the gap between them. Ciara smirked into the kiss, her hands resting on Angeline's hips as Angeline wrapped her arms around Caira's neck and sent a middle finger at Levi.

Levi looked astonished, slowly backing up as he listened to his friends laugh from the concrete steps of the main entrance. As soon as he was gone, Angeline pulled away, the two girls laughing at each other and fixing their lipsticks with their fingers.

"Thanks for playing along." Angeline winked.

"Anything to get rid of that leach," Ciara laughed. 

... 

Angeline got Paige to drop her home at the end of the school day, but not before promising that she would go to some beach party with them the Saturday coming. Just three days left of the school week and then Angeline was free to tan and eat as much vegan ice cream as Paige would allow her to.

The brunette pressed the buzzer by the gate, Mitch's voice coming through as he welcomed her home and unlocked the gate. Angeline assumed that her father was forcing him to take up a bunch of different tasks like he did with all of the new recruits.

Angeline briefly wondered about the young man. He looked like he was only about twenty-three or twenty-four, what made him want to work in security for her father? She wondered if he'd gone to college, or maybe he had dropped out. Mitch gave away absolutely nothing; she couldn't come up with a plausable backstory for him if she tried.

The garages by the front door were wide open and parked inside were about a dozen different black cars, a man stood in front of them with a gun tucked firmly in his hands. Angeline frowned, guessing that somebody important must be over. It didn't happen a lot, most meetings happened in her father's offices closer to San Fransisco.

Mitch was standing in the foyer when Angeline peeled open the door, a walkie talkie attached to his hip and the same clothes he had this morning on. He gave her a small nod upon seeing her.

"Mr Lewis is in an important business meeting. He told me to tell you that you can't be loud," Mitch said.

Angeline scoffed and raised her brows at him. "I bet that's why he cared about getting me to school this morning, right?"

Mitch didn't reply. Angeline was used to that-- all her father's staff ignored her.

She grinned anyway. "So what billionaire is he sucking off in his meeting room? Or are there a few in there? One big billionaire orgy. Their dirty talk is probably like 'oh, fuck yeah, I love the way you take advantage of the poor.'"

The man in front of her looked like he wanted to laugh, before his eyes flickered behind her and his jaw immediately clenched, lips pursing shut.

Fuck.

"Angeline Lewis."

The brunette teenager immediately winced upon hearing the sharp gasp at the top of the stairs. Angeline's shoulders were tense and she didn't even want to turn around, but Mitch was sending her a look that suggested she should probably just rip the band aid right off.

Angeline slowly turned around, sending an awkward pursed-lipped smile to her father and the man in the suit standing next to him at the top of the stairs. The man huffed and started to march down the stairs, nearly knocking shoulders with Angeline before he was out of the front door.

"Angeline!" Daniel Lewis bellowed, his voice echoing so loud across the mansion that the girl swore her ears rattled. "What gives you the right to talk like that? About our clients of all people!"

Angeline took a few steps back as her dad started to come down the stairs, heading straight for her. Mr Lewis looked over to Mitch who was glancing between them both unsurely.

"You can leave, Rapp. I will be dealing with my daughter," Mr Lewis snapped.

Mitch hesitated. His hazel eyes flickered straight to Angeline, noticing the way her shoulders were tensed and her eyes were a little watery. He knew she was scared of her dad, even if she put on this brave front that she was big and powerful.

"Rapp to the main security office. Over." Winston's voice through the walkie talkie interrupted the few seconds of hesitance that Mitch had been experiencing and he sent a small nod to his boss and retreated up the stairs.

Angeline wished that he would come back for some reason.

"You think you're on top of the world, huh?" Mr Lewis grabbed Angeline's wrist and harshly shoved her against the wall behind them. "You think you're too good for the family business and you're better than the rest of us--"

"Your family business drove away mum," Angeline fought back.

"Your mother chose to leave," the billionaire barked. "Why can't you be more like Elliot, Angeline? Your little teenage rebellion is going to leave you scraping for money when you're old enough to leave this house. Elliot actually cares about this family, he wants what is best for us."

"Good for Elliot," Angeline spat, tears burning in her brown eyes. "But you're completely stupid if you think this is a 'little teenage rebellion'. This isn't temporary, dad. This is me. I call you out on your bullshit and you don't like that. You want me to be like Elliot because Elliot follows you around like a sheep."

"Don't you dare talk to me like that," her father shoved her back even harder. "Have some respect for your father-- the person who puts a roof over your head, and a bloody good one at that!"

"You have no respect for me," Angeline yelled, trying to wriggle out of the grasp he had on her arm. "Respect is earned."

Mr Lewis stared his daughter down for a few more seconds. His chest was heaving with anger, his grip on Angeline's wrist slowly weakening. As soon as she was able to, Angeline tugged it out of his hand and lowered her arm, shoving past him to march up the stairs.

"Run away, then," the man laughed mockingly, flinging his hands into the air. "Run away like the childish little girl you are. Just like your bloody mother!"

"Fuck. Off!" Angeline screamed, reaching her bedroom and throwing the door open.

She slammed it behind her so hard that she thought it might fall off of the hinges for a second, the whole thing rattling. Rage had exploded inside Angeline like a bomb, the shrapnel flooding her veins and poisoning her system. Her hands shook out of pure fury as she swiped her lamp and other belongings off of her bedside table.

The picture frame of herself, her mother, her father and Elliot from five years ago was picked up and slammed against one of the walls, scratching the paint and leaving a small daint. Clothes from her wardrobe were thrown onto the floor with it, alongside a few plants dotted around the room that were pissing her off even more than usual.

Angeline ended up in a heap on the floor, nearly buried amongst her designer clothes that meant nothing to her. None of this expensive shit meant anything when she had a father downstairs that couldn't give less of a fuck about her existence, or a brother down the hall that was probably snickering at her breakdown.

Her chest started to heave as the anger grew and Angeline only then realised that hot tears were starting to soak her cheeks. She lifted shaky hands and wiped them away, her head resting back on what felt like the soft cotton of a Motel dress as she stared at the plain ceiling.

Angeline sometimes wished she could be as brainwashed as her brother or as ruthless as her father. Maybe then she would be able to just give in and go along with the whole thing. Her father said he would certainly love her a lot more that way.

"Fuck," the brunette whimpered, resting her arm over her eyes as she started to cry softly into it. 

...

Mitch winced every time he heard something new get thrown around the teenager's bedroom, her frustrated screams following. He sat in the surveillance room with Winston and Renolds, the other two guys that protected the house and the Lewis' 24/7.

"You wanna watch?" Renolds snickered, his hand moving to switch on the cameras in Angeline's bedroom which Mitch was pretty sure she didn't existed.

"No." Mitch's large hand immediately snapped out and stopped the man. "That's an invasion of Miss Lewis' privacy. Mr Lewis specifically said never to check those cameras unless something-"

"Oh, come on, Rapp," Winston cackled, much to Mitch's surprise. "She's having a breakdown, not having sex with that blond boyfriend of hers. It will be funny."

Mitch felt sick. He very nearly paled at Winston's words, wondering if maybe the two older men switched the cameras in Angeline's room on more often than they should be. He felt personally violated for her and made a mental note to mention this to Mr Lewis. While he was a shitty man, Mitch was pretty sure he wouldn't like his daughter being watched by two men in their fifties.

"No," Mitch interjected. "It won't be funny."

Renolds rolled his eyes and slumped back in defeat. "You're a stick in the mud, kid."

He felt a little calmer knowing that they weren't going to be watching Angeline now. Mitch would have no problem in making sure that the pair didn't touch the controls to the cameras in her bedroom, but he also didn't feel like getting in trouble with Mr Lewis today when he had to explain why he broke his two best men's wrists.

"You guys look through the CCTV in her room often?" Mitch deadpanned, his voice rough and low as he looked up at them.

"Not often," Winston cackled, patting Renolds back as the pair of them laughed. "Oh, come on, Rapp. Give it a rest. She's a beautiful girl. Don't admit you haven't thought about it. You're young, you might have a chance with her, you know."

The dark-haired man felt sick with disgust and anger. "You guys are fifty. She's seventeen."

"Eighteen in two weeks," Renolds replied with a grin, his expression melting away when Mitch's expression didn't budge. "Oh, Rapp. You've got a lot to learn. Of course we're not being serious, we don't look at her CCTV. It's called a joke."

Mitch was now a mixture of relieved and disgusted. "Not a funny one," he replied bluntly and stood up.

"Where did Lewis find you?" Winston huffed. "I can just tell you didn't have friends growing up."

"I did, actually," Mitch snapped. "I just don't find rape jokes very funny."

"Hey, hey." Renolds grew stern. "Nobody said anything about rape-"

"Classic locker room chat." The Rapp man jerked his hand towards them. "Joking about watching underage girls have sex with their boyfriends. Except you guys should have grown out of that shit thirty fucking years ago."

Mitch started to leave, hearing them as clear as day mutter things about him behind his back. The man couldn't bring himself to care what the two older men thought; they truly sickened him. In fact, he hated every single person in this building-- everyone but Angeline.

If he wasn't here for a deeper cause he would have left the week he arrived.

When he arrived at the end of the hall, outside Angeline's bedroom door, he lifted his hand to knock and listened as the sniffling behind it quickly stopped. He heard some shuffling around and then the door opened just wide enough for him to see the red-eyed girl standing there.

"Can't get enough of me, huh, Mitch?" Angeline teased as if the whole house didn't just hear the argument she had with her father.

"I was checking you were okay. Heard some things being broken," Mitch replied, feeling himself calm down from how riled up the two other security guards had been making him.

Angeline sent him a fake grin, teeth and all. "Ah, you must have heard me renovating my bedroom. Yeah, I have this really niche technique that they taught me in... in London, yeah."

Mitch managed to glance behind her, brows raised. "Do they not have closets in London?"

"No, they, um, actually like to display their outfits on the floor-- easier to look at and comfy to walk on," Angeline started to slowly shut the door. "Now if you don't mind, I have, ur, more picture frames that need smashing. I really like the way smashed glass looks."

Mitch genuinely smiled a little at her attempt to lighten the mood. She clearly wasn't someone that liked to be comforted, and he understood that.

"Well, have fun."

"I will."

As soon as the door closed behind her, Mitch released a small sigh. Angeline Lewis really was something else.


	4. Chapter 4

Saturday rolled around quicker than expected, and it was a good thing too because Angeline was getting sick of watching tacky promposals and taking useless tests. Today was the seniors-only beach party that happened every single year the week after spring break.

"Wear the yellow bikini." Paige tossed it at her as she searched through Angeline's selection of swimsuits. "It makes your skin look so much more tan."

Angeline held it up and huffed, shaking her head. "I was thinking of my red one, the cherry red one, to go with my nails."

Paige's eyes widened. "Oh, good idea."

The blonde girl started to search through the countless bikinis that Angeline seemed to have, finally finding the one she had previously described. Paige inspected it with raised brows.

"I might have to borrow this, you know," Paige hummed before she passed it along.

"Then our vaginas will be touching the same material," Angeline disclaimed. "That's like sharing pants."

"Panties," Paige corrected her before she shot her a disgusted look. "You say the most crude things sometimes, Angel. Besides, that's what washing machines are for."

Angeline sighed and peeled off the dress she was wearing. The brunette did wish she could stop saying stuff that got her into trouble, but it was like her mouth had no filter. If her brain thought it, she just had to say it. If she didn't she felt like she would explode.

Nobody understood that, except maybe Ciara. Her friend with bleached hair thought Angeline's burst of thoughts were actually funny, but everybody else seemed to shoot her glares or tell her she was inappropriate.

Angeline slipped off her bra and underwear and pulled on the bikini, turning so Paige could tie a tight knot at the back for her. Once she was secured, she slipped the dress back on and grabbed her bag.

"How does my hair look?" She asked.

Paige smirked. "Perfect. We both look hot."

Angeline smiled at her friend as Paige turned to check herself out in the mirror, clearly loving what she saw. Angeline was by no means unconfident, she loved herself too, but Paige made sure everybody knew there was not a single flaw on her body.

"Will Mitch be downstairs?" Paige questioned. "You need to introduce me to him."

Angeline's face contorted into one of slight disgust as she watched the blonde beauty pull the low cut of her dress down even further, her breasts practically spilling out.

"Paige, I'm not setting you up with my dad's security!" She whined.

"Oh, come on, Mitch won't be able to resist when he sees me," Paige replied with a small giggle.

Angeline rolled her eyes in amusement and turned off her bedroom light. The pair started to walk down the marble staircase, talking about how Jackie Williams' parents had supposedly gone bankrupt and she was dropping out of school.

"It's literally so embarrassing for her," Paige scoffed, shaking her head. "I think I would literally die if that ever happened to me."

As they reached the bottom of the staircase, Angeline saw Mitch stood in the foyer, typing something into what looked like an iPad, but she knew it was some high-tech security thing. She knew it had access to everything in the home, like the gates and the security cameras and lists of people who weren't allowed on the premises, stuff like that.

Paige quickly smacked her arm, accidentally catching Mitch's attention as he glanced up.

"Going out?" Mitch asked, spotting the bag in the brunette's hand as well as the flip flops on her feet.

Angeline nodded. "Yeah, to the beach. It's a senior thing."

The dark-haired man nodded back, his gaze only flickering away from Angeline when the blonde girl beside her coughed loudly. Mitch gave her a small nod to acknowledge her existence, which wasn't good enough for Paige who nudged Angeline.

"Oh, this is Paige, my best friend," Angeline introduced them, bored. "Paige, this is Mitch, one of my dad's minions— I mean, security."

Mitch didn't have a chance to respond to Angeline's comment because Paige was already giggling loudly and shoving her hand inside his to shake it. She batted her eyelashes, doing the hair twirling thing that normally worked with the teenage boys she flirted with.

"So nice to meet you, Mitch," Paige smiled.

"You too," Mitch replied before he looked back at Angeline. "Angeline, please make sure your phone is on at all times and if something happens press the button on your app."

The brown-eyed girl huffed. "Yeah, yeah. You don't have to go through it every single time I leave the house, y'know."

"Just doing my job."

Angeline folded her arms across her chest. "Do you say that to Elliot every time he leaves?"

"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if your brother disappeared," Mitch lowered his voice to joke.

Perhaps he shouldn't have been so unprofessional, but it did put a wide grin on Angeline's face. It was the most that he had seen the teenage girl smile since the fight she'd had with her father three days ago— she'd been in a glum mood since.

"Okay, okay," Angeline smiled at Mitch. "I'll keep my phone on or whatever. See you soon."

Paige grabbed her arm as soon as the pair were outside the house. "Angel, he was staring at you the whole time!"

The brown-eyed girl chuckled a little. "His job is to basically babysit Elliot and I."

"Huh," Paige frowned. "How come your dad needed a new guy?"

Angeline shrugged. "I think he's working on new stuff and he's worried about interference from competition. He has Winston by his side 24/7 now, so he needed another guy to make sure my brother and I aren't doing stupid shit or something."

"Sounds fishy to me," Paige said, but left it at that and something about her words swam around in Angeline's head. 

...

The beach was already packed full of seniors from Fair Hill High when Paige and Angeline arrived, showing their student IDs to a man at the gate before they were let inside.

"Oh, cool— limbo," Angeline grinned, pointing over to where some of the boys and a couple of girls were messing around beneath what looked like a bamboo stick.

Paige didn't listen but started to yank the short girl towards Ciara and Grace who were sat by one of the bars, stirring cocktails and scanning the crowds.

"Hi, guys," Angeline greeted her friends once they'd walked across the sand to get to them.

"It's about time you two turned up," Grace huffed. "Jessica Morley has been prancing around like she's the fucking queen or something."

Paige looked horrified; her head flipped around so quickly that her blonde hair nearly whacked straight into Ciara who was trying to sip what looked like a Cosmopolitan.

"What the fuck?" Paige huffed, watching the redhead sit around with half the soccer team in her bikini. "Who does she think she is?"

Angeline shrugged. "She's not really doing anything."

"I'm going over," the blue-eyed girl ignored her, carefully pulling off her dress and putting it into her bag.

"Oh, God," Angeline muttered. "She's just talking-"

"Come on, Grace," Paige called, already heading over.

Grace followed quickly like a lost puppy, the two of them marching over and taking seats beside the soccer players. Angeline peeled off her own dress and sat on the stool beside Ciara that Grace had previously been sat in.

"What happened to girls supporting girls, huh?" Ciara muttered, waving the bartender over. "Another Cosmopolitan, please. And a Piña colada for my friend."

Angeline grabbed her purse and started to take out some money to give to the man behind the bar whilst she shrugged.

"I don't know," she mumbled. "Paige and Grace only support girls if they like them."

"Tea," Ciara muttered.

Angeline paid for her drink and started to sip at her Piña colada, spinning around on the stool to face the rest of the beach. Only then did she notice the 2000s music playing loudly over speakers across the beach, something by Britney Spears.

"Wanna limbo?"

"Duh."

Whilst Paige and Grace battled Jessica Morley and her friends for the attention of the soccer team, Angeline and Ciara were becoming drunker and drunker on cocktails and challenging anyone within a six feet radius of them to a limbo battle.

The sun was starting to set and Angeline and Ciara had moved over to the crowds of people dancing, cocktails long since abandoned but the alcohol positively buzzing through their systems. They sang at the top of their lungs, feet jumping up and down on the golden sand beneath them as the sun started to set, orange and pink hues mixing in the sky.

"Ba-by, you know that I miss you, I wanna get with you," Angeline and Ciara sang, stumbling around with each other. "But I cannot baby girl and that's the issue!"

"Hey, looks like Grace has pulled," Ciara pointed.

Angeline tilted her head to get a look, her heart nearly stopping when she immediately recognised the blond mop her hands were raking through. Grace, dressed in her hot pink bikini, was reaching up on her toes to make out with not just anybody, but Angeline's ex boyfriend of all people— Levi Edwards.

"That's Levi." Angeline stopped dancing, her shoulders sagging in disbelief.

Ciara's eyes grew wide when she did a double take. "What the fuck?"

Ciara grabbed Angeline's wrist and started to tug her over, but Angeline quickly let go and shook her head. She nearly tripped over her own feet in the process, her head spinning.

"I don't... I don't feel like fighting with anybody else this week, Ciara," Angeline admitted.

Ciara looked at her, a little confused. She assumed that Angeline just meant all the arguments she'd been having with Levi at school and nodded, releasing a sigh.

"Do you wanna go home?" She asked.

Angeline nodded, feeling sick with betrayal. She couldn't care less if Levi got with a hundred girls at the senior party, she just cared that it had been Grace of all people. One of her only and best friends.

Her stomach started to hurt, spinning with all of the alcohol inside. Angeline's throat ached and she could feel her skin sweating and her teeth starting to hurt a little. Ciara grabbed her friend when she started to stumble, straightening her up.

"Angel, are you alright?"

Angeline shook her head, feeling her heart start to race and her hands grow even clammier. Ever since she was young, she'd had an intense fear of vomit and anything to do with it. The sensation of throwing up made her feel like she was suffocating, and the gross feeling before it happened made her panic at the thought of being sick.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," she admitted fearfully. "Oh my God, oh my God."

Ciara started to hush her, reaching back and pulling Angeline's hair out of her face. She used the tie on her wrist to pin it back and she fanned her hands in front of the brunette's face, as if to try and give her some fresh air.

"You're okay," Ciara kept promising her. "You're okay. If you throw up, I'll stay with you, okay?"

Angeline managed to nod, but Ciara's words failed to keep her wild thoughts at bay. She knew it was probably stupid to be so terrified of something so natural, yet she couldn't help it.

"Fuck." Angeline rushed towards some bushes and gasped before she threw up.

Ciara rubbed her back, frowning at the short girl's sobs. She was breathing heavily in between being sick, tears streaming down her face and her jaw trembling as she prayed that she wouldn't be sick again.

"Do you want me to call your dad or your brother?" Ciara asked. "I'm sure they'll come pick you up."

Angeline quickly shook her head. "I'm not on talking terms with them right now."

Or ever.

"That was so scary," she added, wiping her eyes when she was sure that she was finished.

Ciara nodded in agreement, continuing to rub Angeline's back in soothing circles as they continued to move down the pavement towards Angeline's house. Angeline's brain was consumed with thoughts of Grace hurting her and the fear in the back of her mind that she might be sick again.

"Let's get some gum." Ciara jerked her head towards the store to the side. "You'll be okay."

... 

Angeline was still wasted when they finally got back to the Lewis household. Ciara sighed as she held her up, using her spare hand to press the buzzer by the gate.

"Ur, hey? It's Ciara... Angel's friend. She's kinda really out of it right now," the teenage girl spoke.

"Buzzing you in," an unfamiliar voice came through the speakers and Ciara could only assume that it was Mitch's voice.

The man who had dropped Angeline off at school a few days ago was coming up the path as Ciara walked down it with Angeline who was giggling to herself and smacking her gum obnoxiously loud. Mitch did a small jog to meet her halfway when he realised that Ciara was literally trying to hold Angeline up, his dark hair flying back a little in the wind.

Ciara let Mitch take Angeline from him when he got there, his large hands pulling the teenage girl upright. Angeline groaned when her head spun even quicker, holding back onto Mitch and dropping her head against his arm.

"I'll make sure she gets to her room," Mitch said to the bleach-haired girl. "Thank you."

"Of course," Ciara nodded, hesitating a little. "I know you're new so I'll just let you know that Angel has a phobia of vomit, in case you didn't already know."

Mitch raised his eyebrows, a little surprised that big bad Angeline was scared of being sick. He held onto her tighter when Angeline muttered something under her breath, her words unintelligible and incredibly slurred.

"Thanks for letting me know," Mitch hummed. "I'm sure she'll text you when she sobers up."

Ciara tried to say goodbye to Angeline, but the girl was too far gone, her face hidden in Mitch's dark t-shirt. The slightly older man started to walk with her up the driveway, muttering things under his breath about looking after drunk teenage girls not being on the outline of the job.

He helped Angeline all the way up the stairs and into her room, helping her down onto her bed. Mitch hesitated before he left and went to get some water and aspirin, returning later and putting it on her bedside table.

"You need to spit the gum out or you'll fall asleep and choke," Mitch instructed.

Angeline shoved her face closer into her pillow. "Whatever, dad," she replied sarcastically.

"Angeline," he said, sterner.

The teenage girls sighed and tilted her head to the side, popping the gum out between her lips. Mitch scrunched his face up when he realised she was expecting him to take it from her and he grabbed the bin next to her desk, holding it out.

"Spit."

Angeline did as she was told before she started to giggle, uncontrollably. Her face went red from laughing as she leaned back up at the pillow, staring at the ceiling.

"What?" Mitch demanded. "What's so funny?"

"I don't normally get told to spit," she cackled.

Mitch's mouth dropped open a little and he swore right there and then that Angeline Lewis would be the death of him. The girl had no filter whatsoever, even to him, who was practically a stranger. It looked like it was even worse when she was drunk.

"Okay, I'm going to get your father now," Mitch sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"No," Angeline muttered. "He'll just get mad. Let me sleep it off."

He hesitated, standing in the middle of the room and contemplating his entire career choice. When Mitch said nothing and left the room after about a minute, the door silently closing behind him, Angeline listened out, praying that she heard no footsteps coming close to her door.

She listened and listened for what felt like hours until she drifted off; smiling a little at the fact that Mitch had done as she asked. 

... 

One of Angeline's many talents was never having bad hangovers. No matter how drunk she got up, she'd wake up with a minor headache, but nothing some aspirin couldn't quickly fix. By the time she'd been awake for an hour, she already felt as good as new.

After a long shower and brushing her teeth, the brunette started to head towards the kitchen to get something to eat. She poured herself some cereal and sat at the bar in the silence of her large home, recalling everything that had happened last night.

She remembered partying with Ciara before she saw Grace and Levi practically dry humping each other on the beachfront, and then she'd thrown up and that was it. Angeline would deal with Grace later; but right now she was remembering something that Paige had said before.

Sounds fishy to me.

Her dad was a strange guy; Angeline didn't bother to try and understand the things he did, she just sat back and judged him from a distance, jumping in to make witty comments whenever she felt necessary. Except hiring Mitch did feel a little weird.

Winston and Renolds were old, they'd been with the family for years now. Mitch must have had a perfect CV to even get an interview with her father, since her dad never trusted anybody easily. Letting somebody into their circle took a lot, especially when Mitch lived with them like Renolds and Winston did.

Mr Lewis must have been really desperate for more security-- which made Angeline naturally wonder: why?

The petite brunette finished up her cereal and placed the bowl into the sink, looking around to make sure she wasn't being watched. So far, she hadn't seen anybody today, but at least one member of security was always on the property. Angeline looked left and right as she made her way up the stairs.

She didn't really know what she was doing. She daren't try and sneak into her father's office or the meeting room, all of the actually juicy stuff would be in her father's building outside of the house. But maybe Angeline wanted to know about her brand new babysitter.

Maybe if she found out what Mitch was doing here then she would find out why she needed him in the first place, and then she could figure out why the hell Paige's words wouldn't quit swimming about inside her brain.

Towards the end of the house was where her father situated the security's rooms. Maybe Angeline should have just waited until she was sure Mitch had a few days off work, but she wanted to know now.

Angeline found his bedroom door and twisted the handle, groaning quietly under her breath when she discovered that it was locked. She reached into the back of the messy bun she had created on her head and took out a bobby pin, biting it between her teeth and adjusting it like Paige had taught her one time.

She didn't know if it was going to work, but when the bobby pin slid right through the lock and she wriggled it about a bit, it made a clicking sound that caused her breath to catch in her throat. Angeline reached up and tried the door handle again, grinning to herself when it swung open.

"Oh, fuck yeah," she mumbled under her breath.

Before she could stand up, she heard somebody clear their throat from behind her. Angeline groaned loudly this time, flinging her head back and rolling her eyes when she saw Mitch stood there with his arms folded across his body.

"Looking for something?" He actually looked angry for once, which was a contrast from the monotone look he usually had on his face.

"You?" Angeline tried, her voice going up a few pitches.

Mitch was sending daggers at the short girl. "Get up, Angeline."

Angeline huffed and stood up, grabbing her bobby pin out of the door handle on the way. She tucked it into the pocket of the oversized cardigan she was wearing, folding her own arms across her chest to mirror Mitch's posture. She hoped it would intimidate him, but he didn't seem to give into her very easily.

"You're gonna tell my dad now, aren't you?" Angeline sighed.

"Tell me what you were looking for."

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Mitch repeated, not believing her for a second.

Angeline shook her head. "Honestly. I was just... curious."

"Stay out of my room." She was taken aback by how rough Mitch's low voice sounded as he came closer to her, like he was threatening her. "Don't try and go through my stuff, don't look through your dad's stuff, and stay out of what you don't understand."

Angeline was a little horrified, feeling like Mitch had totally just turned on her when she was starting to think he was actually alright. She swallowed, taking a step back from him. Her wounded expression didn't cause him to falter for a second and only then did Angeline see the look in his hazel eyes.

She didn't stick around but went past him, making sure to shove him with her shoulder a little before she ended up in her bedroom. His words sounded less like a threat and more like... a warning. Different to when every other man in the house said it to make her feel small and pathetic.

Don't try and go through my stuff, don't look through your dad's stuff, and stay out of what you don't understand.

Mitch was warning her.


	5. Chapter 5

Angeline was not prepared to see Grace the next day at school. She had avoided the girls group chat since the party on Saturday night, knowing if she saw Grace right now then she wouldn't be able to control her big mouth. However, if she was being totally honest, Grace violating girl code by making out with Angeline's ex-of-a-week wasn't the main priority taking up Angeline'd mind.

Mitch's words followed Angeline around like the plague, dozens of different conspiracies filling her head. What was Mitch up to? What was her family up to?

Whenever the security man tried to look at her or talk to her, she made sure that he knew she wasn't pleased with him. Mitch didn't seem to particularly care that Angeline wasn't bugging him; going about his business like usual.

"Are you gonna confront her?" Ciara questioned as she watched Angeline sit on the bottom stair to put her shoes on.

"I don't know," she admitted, ignoring Mitch who was sitting at the island in the kitchen, going through paperwork. "I feel like I should but I don't know if I have the energy to fight with her today."

Ciara sighed in agreement, fiddling with her new pink hair. It was a soft bubblegum colour that complimented her warm beige skin beautifully and Angeline had nearly screamed when she saw it this morning.

"Grace shouldn't get away with it, though," she huffed, folding her arms across her chest as Angeline finally finished tying her laces.

"I know," Angeline groaned. "She's pissed me right off."

"Well, look at what I got to cheer you up after school."

Angeline glanced into the bag that Ciara was holding open, the brunette catching sight of the small ziplock tucked away in one of the pockets. Inside were two pre-rolls, causing the two girls to giggle and shake their heads.

"Ciara," Angeline whined quietly, glancing over to where she could see Mitch still sat at the island, minding his own business. "You know my dad would flip his shit if he ever found out you had that here."

The pink-haired girl said nothing but giggled more as she slipped the zip-lock into Angeline's bag instead. They didn't say anything to Mitch as they linked arms and left the house, Angeline immediately squinting in the bright sunshine.

"Ah, I love this weather," she mumbled.

Ciara scoffed, pulling her sunglasses down from her hair onto her nose. "I would trade this for the middle of London any day. You're crazy, girl."

"If you moved to London, you'd miss it here. Trust me," Angeline insisted as she slipped into the passenger side of Ciara's Jeep Wrangler. "I'm going back for a couple of weeks once we graduate, then I think I'm gonna try and get my mum to start visiting here instead."

"Fair enough."

About fifteen minutes later, the two teenagers pulled up in the car park and were heading towards the front of the school. Angeline felt her heartbeat pick up a little upon noticing Grace stood next to Paige by their usual meeting spot, her brows furrowing absentmindedly into a small glare.

"Maybe I should hear her out first," Angeline whispered to Ciara. "And then I will have a reason to punch her in the fucking dick."

"She doesn't have-"

"Angel, Ciara!" Paige rushed over, grabbing both their hands and pulling them towards Grace. "You guys have been totally M.I.A since the party. So boring without you."

Angeline raised her eyebrows, looking directly at the pink-clad girl next to Paige. "I don't know, you seemed to be having a lot of fun on Saturday night."

Grace frowned a little. "What's that supposed to mean?" She questioned defensively.

"It means I saw you with your tongue down Levi's throat, Grace," Angeline snapped.

She thought she wouldn't have started an argument like this, that maybe Grace would say something to reassure her, but Angeline's tongue always worked before her brain. It was the reason she was constantly getting into trouble, and it was the reason she was probably about to lose a friend.

Grace looked appalled at the accusation, her brain clearly whirling as she tried to conduct something in her head. Paige's eyes were slightly wide as she glanced between the two of them. Before the blonde could say anything, Grace finally spoke up.

"You were already broken up—"

Angeline looked horrified. "That's not the point! What about girl code?"

"You said you didn't care about Levi anymore! You rejected him, like, five times last week alone," Grace attempted to reason with her. "You made it obvious that you weren't interested anymore."

Ciara huffed. "Seriously, Grace? He cheated on her."

"This is not about Levi! This is about you getting with my ex a week after I dumped him, and you didn't even think to tell me about it!" Angeline seethed, her voice picking up and gathering the attention of others.

Paige looked around them, heart pounding as more and more people started to look. A few were already daring to come over.

"Guys," the blonde hissed. "Let's just talk about this another time."

"No," Grace growled. "If you have something to say, Angeline, say it."

Paige glanced at Angeline desperately. "Angel, it's really not a big deal—"

"Stay out of this," Ciara warned the leader of their group.

Angeline glared harder. "I thought we were supposed to be friends, Grace. You could have gone for any guy on that beach and you went for Levi Edwards. What kind of friend are you?"

"Are you calling me a slut?" Grace's gasp rang loud and clear for everybody to hear, and by now, much to Paige's horror, they were surrounded by at least fifty other teenagers.

Paige's reputation was everything to her. It had been drilled into her since she was merely a kid— that people were going to judge, so she always needed to be at her best. Paige wanted a classy group of beautiful, rich girls, and right now they were falling out of line, starting verbal fights before the first period had even started for the whole school to listen to.

"I'm calling you a shitty friend," Angeline corrected her.

"He came onto me first," Grace wasn't even attempting to cool down anymore— she was trying to win, to get Angeline as riled up as possible— and it was working.

"In fact," the dark-skinned girl added with a cocky smile. "Levi's always been interested in me. He said so himself. Even when the two of you were together."

"You can have him now," Angeline spat. "It doesn't matter because we're not friends anymore. No more girl codes to break. Sleep with all my exes you want, bitch."

As she started to walk away, Grace panicked, trying to get the last words in.

"Whatever. Go back home to suck off daddy's security 'cause it's the only way you'll get his attention, daddy issues."

It wasn't even a good comeback, yet the next thing Angeline knew, her hands were yanking at Grace's hair and she was smacking her across the face. Paige yelled Angeline's name as gasps and laughs ripped through the crowd of students.

Grace didn't hesitate to hit Angeline right back, the brunette taking a hit to the face before she was punching Grace in the shoulder. She didn't go as hard as she knew she could, knowing she could actually send Grace to the hospital.

Angeline ended up getting scratched by Grace's hot pink acrylics, her jaw home to a couple of shallow scratches before Angeline smacked her as hard as she could around the face.

Paige caught Grace when the girl stumbled back, holding her nose and releasing a small cry. Angeline stood above her, heaving with anger. The satisfaction of watching blood trickle from Grace's nose made it all so worth it.

"Shut the fuck up, Grace," the English girl snapped. "Don't talk about shit you don't understand."

Stay out of what you don't understand.

Her own words caused Mitch's to float in her head, a dazed expression written across her face as people chanted her name in the distance. Before she could pull herself out of her daydream, she felt a large hand clamp down on her shoulder.

Angeline looked up and sighed when she saw Principal Warren stood there, a disappointed look on his face as she shook his head.

"Miss Lewis, if you would like to come with me..."

Fucking great. 

...

Angeline honestly hadn't planned on starting a fight with Grace over what had happened at the beach on Saturday, but when Grace had lied in front of everybody she had just snapped. The rage she had felt at that moment in time had shaped the next couple of minutes of her life, the next couple of minutes that had landed her in the principal's office getting her bag checked.

This wouldn't have been a problem at all usually. If it was any other day, he'd find Angeline's pencil case amongst a bunch of books, some lip balm, maybe a gloss if she'd worn one into school that day, a couple of hairbands in case they had to do a lab experiment... the usual.

Not today, though. Today, Principal Warren found a ziplock with two joints stuffed inside.

Thank you, Ciara.

Angeline wasn't going to bother trying to come up with some lie or try and blame her friend; she was exhausted of fighting so often and she just wanted to go home.

The brunette was forced to wait outside his office door in reception until her father came and picked her up, but Angeline knew it was likely she could be there for hours waiting. She leaned her head back against the wall behind her, closing her eyes.

"There's no sleeping in my reception room, Miss Lewis," one of the receptionists called.

Angeline peeled one eye open and shot her a look so sour that the old woman recoiled, pushing her glasses back up her nose and going back to minding her own business. She sighed to herself, playing with her fingers as she thought about how much trouble she was going to get into for this.

Having a physical fight and bringing drugs on campus was a big no-no, the kind of shit that Principal Warren only excused if the perpetrator was on the boys' soccer team.

When she heard the reception doors peel open, Angeline opened both her eyes and was more than surprised to see not her father, not even her older brother, but Mitch wandering inside.

He didn't look happy to be there at all, his hazel eyes scanning the room until they landed on Angeline. His shoulders sagged and he moved over, sitting down in the seat next to her. Mitch craned a little to look at the teenage girl.

"What happened?" He asked.

Angeline rolled her eyes at him. "Where's my dad?"

"He couldn't make it," Mitch said.

"So he sent you instead," Angeline huffed in a mixture of realisation and slight disappointment. "I don't know you, Mitch. You're barely any older than me and you're a complete stranger. I should just wait here for him to come and sort this out."

If Mitch was insulted by Angeline's words, he didn't show it. His expression barely changed, just like always. He had to know why she was acting like this. Angeline knew it was petty and that she deserved to be told off for trying to get into his stuff, except she had thought Mitch was on her side this whole team and now she was worried he was just as bad as Renolds and the others. 

"Your father's not coming," Mitch deadpanned. "Mr Lewis said he had more important things to take care of."

Angeline wished that Mitch's words didn't sting a little, but she felt them right in her chest. Anything was more important to her dad than Angeline. When she was accepted into Harvard a few weeks ago, the man had barely reacted. That was when Angeline realised nothing she could or would ever do would ever impress him.

The door to the principal's office opened and Mitch immediately stood, sending a short nod to Principal Warren and moving to shake his hand.

"You must be Principal Warren," Mitch greeted.

"Yes..." He peeled his hand away. "You're not Angeline's father."

Angeline scoffed and rolled her eyes. "No, this is my babysitter, Mitch."

"Mitch Rapp, sir," the dark-haired man ignored Angeline's words as they all walked into the office, Mitch and Angeline sitting behind the desk. "I'm security for Mr Lewis. He had business to attend to, so he sent me instead."

"Very well," Principal Warren sighed. "I'm sorry we had to call you in like this, but we will need you to sign a few things regarding Angeline's week suspension."

"Week suspension?" Angeline and Mitch both repeated, Angeline a whole lot more appalled. "Sir, listen, I would never have hit her if she didn't spread absolute bullshi-"

"Okay," Mitch quickly silenced her. "What's this week suspension for?"

"Physical assault on a Fair Hill student and possession of drugs on school site," Principal Warren said.

Angeline rolled her eyes. "That makes it sound so much worse than it is. And I think you're only putting assault because I won the fight, but if you check out the scratches on my cheek then you'll see it wasn't actually one-sided and-"

"Miss Lewis," the man glared a little before he looked to Mitch. "Angeline's suspension will start tomorrow until next Monday where she will be allowed to step foot back on campus. If she comes on-site before that time, it will count as trespassing and further action will be taken. More behaviour like this from Angeline could result in harsher punishments such as permanent expulsion, and upon her return to Fair Hill, she will have lunchtime detentions for a week."

"Fucking hell," Angeline blurted. "Want me to scrape all the gum off every desk whilst I'm at it?"

"Language, Miss Lewis," Principal Warren snapped.

Mitch signed a few different pieces of paperwork before they were guided off-site by the principal himself, all the way to the car park. Angeline climbed into the passenger side of Mitch's work car and slammed the door harshly, tossing her bag on the floor.

"You gonna lecture me now?" The brunette stared out the window.

"You said it yourself, Angeline," Mitch replied solemnly, not peeling his eyes off of the road for a second. "I'm barely older than you and I'm a complete stranger. Who am I to tell you what to do?"

The teenage girl frowned, realising that maybe Mitch had been a little hurt by Angeline's words. She immediately wanted to apologise, but she didn't know why. She had no idea if she could even trust Mitch, he was just another man unwelcome in her home.

It was silent for another agonising five minutes where all Angeline wanted to do was talk. She wanted to say so much to Mitch, to just straight up demand answers and let him know she's not a bad person like he probably thinks, but for once she couldn't get the words out.

They pulled up in the garage beside the house. Mitch switched off the engine and went to pull the keys out when Angeline grabbed his hand, stopping him. Mitch glanced down at their hands before he looked up at her, brows furrowed.

"I..." Angeline began, her voice barely above a whisper like she was scared somebody else might here them. "I know something's not right."

Mitch was frowning deeper now, and it was probably the most emotion she had ever seen on his face. He actually looked a little... worried?

"I know something's going on," she said quietly. "My dad and my brother are doing something and you're involved. Something bad is happening, and I'm on to all of you."

Angeline peeled her hand from his and moved to open her door, but Mitch was quickly grabbing her hand again. The teenage girl turned, eyes slightly wide as she waited for him to talk.

"Whatever you think you know, you don't," his voice was just as low as hers, eyes looking around them briefly. "I'm not the bad guy, Angeline."

Angeline blinked, pulling her hand out of his and grabbing her school bag. She flung it over her shoulder and climbed out of the car.

"Funny that my father says the exact same thing."

...

When Mr Lewis requested that Angeline and Elliot both join him in the dining room for dinner, Angeline knew she should be worried. She spent her day in her bedroom, avoiding Mitch and doing all the schoolwork she was missing out on, so she had yet to see her family.

She had only been sitting down for two minutes, opposite Elliot whilst their father sat at the head of the oversized oak table. The brunette shoved about the peas on her plate in distaste, avoiding the fish and potatoes next to it altogether.

"I heard some news today," Mr Lewis finally spoke up, setting his cutlery at an agonisingly slow pace onto his plate. "Renolds told me that you were excluded from school, I hope this is not true."

Fucking Renolds.

Angeline swallowed thickly as she crushed some peas beneath her fork. She glanced back up to see both men staring at her intensely.

"Suspended, not excluded," Angeline said. "You would know if you had come to pick me up rather than sending Mitch."

"Rapp, Angeline," Elliot corrected her. "You refer to people like him by their last names."

Angeline rolled her eyes, unable to send a witty remark back before her dad was releasing a dramatic sigh and dropping his head into his hand. He rubbed his forehead.

"The drugs thing isn't a big deal," Angeline insisted. "It was only weed which is, like, not even that bad, and it wasn't even mine. I was just holding onto it."

"Where have I heard that one before?" Mr Lewis growled, lifting his head from his hand. "It probably comes from a book along with the hundreds of other excuses you use."

Angeline didn't try to protest, she just crushed more peas beneath her cutlery and pretended that they were all her father's head. She would storm out and head straight to her bedroom, but she knew it would make her look like the loser.

Angeline Lewis was not a loser. 

"It's not an excuse, honestly," she replied, rolling her eyes. "I don't expect you to believe me, though. Neither of you ever take anything I say seriously."

"Maybe if you were less of a self-entitled brat," Elliot grumbled, shoving some potato into his mouth.

Angeline's fists clenched beneath the table as she looked to her brother.

"Oh, I'm the self-entitled brat?" She scoffed. "Elliot, you're the one literally planning on sponging off dad for the rest of your life. I have been working my arse off this entire time, even when you two pull shit bad enough to drive mum out of the bloody country! I have dreams more fulfilling and less selfish than a mansion and a few billion dollars to myself. I got accepted into Harvard fucking University, yet not a word or question about it from you two! I'm gonna be a clinical psychologist, dad! I'm gonna help people."

Elliot looked to their father to see his expression. Mr Lewis was nearly frozen as he stared at his daughter, pursing his thin lips together.

"Clinical psychology will not pay you much at all," he avoided everything else she had said on purpose to rile her up. "In fact, your brother would be making hundreds and hundreds times more money than you."

"It's all about money with you," Angeline snapped. "Maybe I want to make a difference, maybe I want a family that actually cares about each other."

"Maybe you should shut the hell up before I make you," Mr Lewis raised his voice, slamming his hands down on the table so hard that both his kids flinched.

Angeline swallowed, contemplating her next actions. "I dare you."

There's her tongue having a mind of its own again.

Within a flash, the teenage girl was yanked from her seat by her father. Mr Lewis pulled her by the back of her oversized t-shirt harshly and practically threw her onto the marble floor beneath her.

Elliot looked shocked, watching with wide eyes as the man hovered over his little sister who was coughing at the abrupt impact. Angeline was still glaring nevertheless, hair falling in front of her face a little.

"You think I won't?" Mr Lewis reached back down and was pulling her up by the back of her hair.

She made a scene this time, yelling out in pain as she tried to reach behind her and get his large hands off of her.

"I'm a man of my word, Angeline," he hissed right against her ear. "I'll make you shut up if it's the last thing I do."

He started to tug her away and Angeline reached out behind her. Her elbow slammed into Mr Lewis' stomach and the man dropped down, coughing and wheezing as he tried to catch his breath.

"Don't fucking touch me," Angeline panted wildly, ignorning the burning tears steaming down her cheeks.

"Renolds," he choked.

The head of security quickly arrived, eyes snapping from Angeline to the man on the floor. He didn't have to say anything before Angeline's arms were being pulled behind her and she was being dragged backwards up the stairs.

"Let me go, dickhead!" Angeline screamed, thrashing about.

Renolds was trained; he wasn't going to be as easy to get off of her as her father. He'd had years of experience, she just had some after school clubs to compromise with.

"Shut your mouth," Renolds hissed.

As he threw her into her bedroom, Angeline quickly got back onto her feet and spat as hard as she could. She was more than certain she had gotten Renolds in the face, but before she could see his pissed expression, the door was slammed shut right in her face.

"Fuck you!" She screamed, her voice rumbling in her chest and ripping her throat. "Fuck all of you fucking bastards. I hate you all."

Angeline punched her door over and over, kicking it with her feet until she lost all energy and lay back on her carpet in exhaustion.

They were driving her insane.


	6. Chapter 6

Angeline was all too aware of the games her small family liked to play with her. They tried to make her feel like she was the irrational one, that she was spoilt and insane and some sort of... cry baby.

Sometimes it actually worked, and that was the part that Angeline despised the most.

Her cheeks were red and raw from all of the sobbing she'd been doing and her knuckles were a little bloody from bashing continuously against her bedroom door. They'd locked her in like a caged animal or a naughty child.

In less than two weeks, Angeline would be a legal adult and no doubt would they still treat her the same. However, as soon as summer came and she graduated with everything she needed, she was gone.

Angeline dreamt of a better future; one a lot more simplistic than this one. Hopefully she'd have a husband or wife that treated her how she treated them, and maybe a couple of kids if she ever grew out of her 'all babies are gross' phase.

Before that, Angeline wanted to land her dream career. She would change her last name to her mother's maiden name and cut all ties with her father and brother. Then she'd travel the world, no need for a security guard breathing down her neck because she would be normal.

Angeline would keep Ciara around, maybe they'd travel the world together.

Ciara: sneak out. come meet @ mine and we can smoke. you can shower after.

Angeline grinned brightly at the thought, rubbing under her sore eyes as she considered it. Sneaking out was nearly impossible with three guys on security 24/7, especially after she had just assaulted the head and was already in enough trouble.

To Ciara: i don't know how to get out. dad's REALLY not happy. under bedroom arrest :/

Ciara replied less than a minute later, much to Angeline's delight. She was surprised nobody had come to take her phone from her yet.

Ciara: you should have told them i put the weed in your bag angel

To Ciara: you can make it up to me by letting me borrow that limited edition bag you got from chanel

Ciara: it's a deal baby

The two teenage girls texted back and forth for hours, Angeline quickly forgetting all about the fact that she was being held captive in her own room. The sun had already set and she was now clad in a huge jumper and some cotton shorts, The Inbetweeners playing on her television in the background.

A quick knock came to her bedroom door, making Angeline's brows furrow. She set her phone down.

"What?" She called. "In case you don't know, you've locked me in. I can't let you in."

"It's me."

Angeline frowned at the sound of her brother's voice. She felt her fists ball up all over again, her anger getting the best of her. Simply his existence stressed her out and pushed her to her limits.

"Leave me alone, Elliot," her glum tone surprised the dirty blond outside who had been expecting some sort of witty reply in response.

"Dad's out," her older brother said. "Took Renolds with him. You never finished your dinner."

She heard the door unlock on his side and she sat up, watching as he pushed it open. Her eyes were burning with hatred as he entered the room, placing down the cold dinner on the edge of her bed.

Angeline wasn't stupid; far from it, actually. She knew what Elliot was doing. He probably did feel a little guilty, but only because this time their father had physically hurt her. If she accepted help from him now, the next time he screwed her over, because he definitely would, she knew it would be a lot harder to retaliate.

"I don't even like that shit," Angeline grumbled.

Elliot glared. "I'm trying to be nice here, Angeline."

"Huh. Maybe you could have tried that years ago. Before you became dad's clone and helped drive mum away."

"Would you give that a rest already?" Elliot ran a hand through his perfectly gelled hair, part of it falling forwards in front of his face. "If you miss mum so much just go fucking live with her."

Angeline refused to let them win like that. Moving out would make all of the years of pain she endured not worth anything, and then it would leave her brother and father grinning like the sadistic twats they really were. She was staying, if not because she loved California, then just to simply piss her broken family off.

She found herself climbing off of the bed to stand in front of him. Her brother rested around five foot ten, still a whole eight inches taller than her, but Angeline would never back down.

"You try and make me feel like I'm delusional," Angeline muttered, jabbing her finger against his hard chest. "But you're the delusional one, Elliot. One day, you'll wake up and realise that dad was manipulating you this entire time. I don't hate you-- in fact, I feel really sorry for you."

Elliot's chest was heaving, his jaw clenched as his lips rubbed together. His fists were clenched by his sides, yet Angeline didn't need to worry about him touching her. Elliot was irrational and he often found himself punching holes through walls, but never his sister.

"Is everything okay in here?" Mitch's rough voice came from Angeline's doorway.

Both siblings turned their heads to look at him. Mitch's face was stone-cold, hazel eyes reading nothing they could detect and he was clad in his usual uniform of a black t-shirt and jeans, the walkie talkie placed around his waist.

"Yes," Elliot replied gruffly, puffing his chest as he backed away from the teenage girl. "Lock Angeline's door behind you, Rapp."

He marched away, leaving Angeline staring straight at the security guard in front of her. Her eyes softened as she swallowed, arms unfolding from across her chest. She couldn't help that she felt calmer when Mitch was around.

He hadn't really done anything to piss her off like the others in the house, but the mistrust would always be there- she was sure of it. Even if he had made fun of her brother that one time and didn't scold her for her inappropriate use of language.

"You heard Elliot," Angeline said quietly. "Lock the door behind you."

Mitch said nothing but stepped forward, into her bedroom, and closed the door behind him. The brunette was slightly confused, her brows furrowing as he came a little closer.

"Do they always do that?" He asked, voice rough and barely above a murmur.

"Do what?"

"Throw you around like some sort of ragdoll. Scream at you. Lock you in your room. Ridicule you," Mitch listed bluntly.

Angeline was silent for a few moments before she gave him a small nod. "Yeah," she whispered. "They're assholes. I'm outta here as soon as school's over."

"Good," Mitch mumbled. "And you might want to clean your knuckles. Might get infected."

Angeline peered down at her slightly busted hands that looked like the belonged to some sort of criminal. The long manicured nails at the end made her feel more like some sort of femme fatale rather than a teenager who struggled to control her anger.

When she glanced up, Mitch was already out the door and locking it behind him, leaving Angeline more conflicted than before.

He wanted her away from this house. 

... 

The first day of her suspension was boring. Angeline had finished most of her school work by midday and then she took a long, hot shower, doing her entire routine simply because she was bored. It was just her and Mitch in the house seeing as everybody else had business stuff to attend to, taking the other security with them.

They had eaten breakfast together at the island after everybody had gone out, not many words exchanged other than the plans each of them had for that day. As she watched him go about his day to day business, checking up on things and a lot of accepting deliveries, Angeline saw him more and more as just some guy that had gotten wrapped up with her father's shit.

"Angeline," she heard Mitch call from the bottom of the stairs, causing her to shift from her bed. "A girl named Ciara is at the gate."

"Let her in," Angeline called, biting back an excited smile.

She had missed Ciara a lot even if it had only been a day and they had been texting last night. The brunette honestly just wanted someone in her corner, and she felt like Ciara was that person. The only person.

Angeline heard footsteps come rushing up the stairs a couple of minutes later and moved to greet Ciara. They jumped into each other's arms, Angeline squeezing the pink-haired girl harder than usual.

"School is so boring without you," she insisted as they sat on top of Angeline's bed a little bit later. "Paige and I have been sitting by ourselves, she totally got rid of Grace, by the way. But Grace is dating Levi now, just thought you should know."

"Ouch," Angeline muttered. "At least I still have you and Paige."

"She's already looking for a new recruit," Ciara snorted, the two of them giggling to each other. "Four looks classier than three, apparently."

"Well, of course."

Sitting around and joking with Ciara felt good. It was refreshing to just sit beside her, the two of them talking for hours about nothing and whatever. Ciara pulled her back down to earth like some sort of anchor, she was a light at the end of the tunnel that reassured her that she wasn't the crazy one, that in the end, Angeline would escape all of the bullshit.

"You know what I brought?" Ciara dug into the inside pocket of her oversized denim jacket, pulling out a joint.

Angeline scoffed, shaking her head. "You can't go without that shit for more than forty-eight hours, huh?"

"There's worse drugs to be addicted to," the pink-haired girl grinned a toothy smile back. "So... Yeah or no?"

"We have to go to the pool and smoke it before my dad gets home," Angeline hummed, standing up. "Do you wanna borrow a bikini?"

"Sure."

Angeline ended up picking out a pink bikini that matched Ciara's bubblegum hair, and for herself, she picked a baby blue one she rarely ever wore. She was pretty sure she had swimming suits in every colour of the rainbow and more.

Mitch was still the only other person home and he was in the security office, so they had nothing to worry about when it came to anybody catching them. Weed might be legal in their state, but any recreational drug was banned from the Lewis household, a rule put in place by Daniel Lewis himself.

Angeline and Ciara sat at the edge of the pool, dangling their legs inside as the pink-haired girl lit the blunt between her lips and took a long drag. It was passed the two of them until it was gone, Angeline already feeling far more relaxed than before as they just kind of sat there, listening to the music playing through the outdoor speakers.

"I'm gonna miss you when college starts up," Ciara sighed, moving to tilt her head on Angeline's shoulder.

The brunette rested her head back on Ciara's. "I'm gonna miss you too, bubs. But we'll meet every break we have. Christmas at yours, yeah?"

Ciara grinned, remembering what they'd talked about since they started applying to universities a year ago. Angeline never wanted to step foot in this mansion again once she officially left it.

"I feel like I'm still fifteen or something..." Angeline whispered. "I don't feel like I'm eighteen soon."

"Me too," Ciara agreed. "I don't want to grow up. Ever."

"Then let's not grow up," Angeline suggested with no idea in mind at all.

Instead, she just slipped slowly into the water beneath her. It wasn't that cold, the sun having been heating it up all day. It was going down now, the sky above nearly matching Ciara's hair. Angeline swam backwards, her hair getting wet and her entire body submerging underwater.

When she opened her eyes, she realised that Ciara had followed, the dark-eyed girl nearly on top of her. Angeline giggled and swam upwards to stand at the bottom of the pool, linking hands with her best friend.

"We should go to senior prom together," Ciara proposed.

"Agreed," Angeline nodded. "I hate literally everybody else at that school."

"Me too," she sighed. "Even Paige sometimes."

They stayed afloat beside each other for a while, Angeline's eyes closing. She heard the soft giggles of her best friend and then felt a pair of hands wrap around her from behind. Angeline grinned with her eyes shut, feeling as Ciara started to swim around, dragging her with her.

Ciara's knee suddenly brushed too high, colliding with Angeline's back. It wasn't too hard, but it caught the tender part that her father had pushed her onto last night, causing her to wince and pull away.

Ciara frowned worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Angeline lied, her body relaxing when the pain went away after a few seconds. "Cramps."

"Ugh, I feel you." 

...

Ciara left shortly after, right before Mr Lewis returned home with Elliot and the rest of security. Angeline was disappointed when the quiet of the house was disturbed, but stayed out on her pink flamingo float anyway, gently floating in the pool. The sun was nearly gone, leaving her shivering slightly in just her blue bikini.

"It's getting dark, Angeline," Mr Lewis' voice came from the kitchen doors, causing her to tilt her head and look at him.

He was dressed in his usual business suit, glasses perched on his nose and his briefcase still in his hand. Mitch was hovering around behind him which caused Angeline to purse her lips a little in curiosity-- was he watching out for her?

"I can switch the garden lights on," Angeline replied, no edge to her tone whatsoever this time.

Mr Lewis seemed taken aback by how defeated she sounded, as if he was expecting a fight or a dramatic reaction from the teenage girl. Angeline had come to realise that he was always expecting the worst from her; he was never too hard to disappoint.

"I wanted to apologise," her father spoke again, placing his briefcase down on the patio beneath him and edging closer to the pool. "I should have never thrown you quite as harshly as I did. You just... never seem to listen."

Angeline turned her head from him so he couldn't see the hot tears that burned in her eyes. She wished his apology was sincere, but he did this every time he had an overly-violent outburst. Whether she accepted the apology or not, it would only be a matter of time before he felt the need to repeat his actions.

"Yeah," Angeline mumbled, her voice slightly croaky as she still didn't look at him-- she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing tears in her eyes. "Okay."

The businessman didn't seem too bothered that she wasn't really accepting his apology, nor trying to talk it out with him. He released an exaggerated sigh and bent down to pick his briefcase back up, starting to head back indoors. Angeline tilted her head to watch him, feeling a tear fall down her cheek.

Briefcase wanker, she nearly snorted out loud at her coincidental Inbetweeners reference, feeling her eyes dry and a smile take place on her face. She released a blissful sigh of her own now that she was alone, flinging her head back onto the float and relaxing her body.

Soon. Soon she would be out of this place.


	7. Chapter 7

Being suspended from school was already boring.

Quite rightfully so, Angeline wasn't allowed to leave the house while she was temporarily kicked out of school, so the only thing she could do was her school work. She'd already swam enough yesterday, and there was nothing new on Netflix for her to enjoy anymore.

Angeline felt like Coraline at the start of that film; huge house, nothing to do inside it. Except, she didn't exactly feel like going around and counting all of the windows in the house.

"I'm bored."

Mitch glanced up when he heard the soft voice from the doorway of the security room. His eyebrows furrowed together and he stopped fiddling with the pen between his fingers whilst he read, shooting Angeline a look.

"I'm working," he replied in the same tone.

Angeline released an exasperated sigh. "Look, I've been doing a lot of thinking recently. I don't think you're that bad. I like you most out of everybody in this house, so maybe I'll stop being an arse to you."

Mitch raised his brows at her, glancing back down at his work. "Good for you."

His bluntness and stern personality frustrated Angeline like nothing else. She preferred people that actually said what they were thinking, that loved to hang out with her and make her laugh. Now that she thought about it, Angeline liked people like herself.

Mitch seemed like the opposite of her. She couldn't stop talking, he never spoke. Angeline had opinions about everything, Mitch wasn't allowed to think subjectively with his job. She was sure he had a personality somewhere beneath the tight black tee and shaggy hair, and Angeline wanted to know it.

Without saying anything, the brunette pulled out one of the spare office chairs next to Mitch and sat down in it. She scooted it across the length of the office until she found the other one, resting her feet on it.

"Like a bed made of chairs," Angeline hummed, looking up to see if he was paying attention.

He wasn't.

Challenge accepted.

"I like your hair," she said, moving the spinny chair closer to him. "My brother used to have hair like that when he was fat. Then he got all buff and shit and he has that douchey hairstyle now."

Mitch looked up at her at this, hazel eyes stern and brows raised. "Are you calling me fat?"

Angeline's eyes widened. "Wha- What? No!" She spluttered. "I was just trying to start a conversation with you since you don't wanna talk to me much."

The dark-haired man said nothing else but looked back down at the paperwork sprawled out on the desk. It looked like too much work for Angeline who had been solving math equations in her bedroom since eight this morning.

"I don't think you're trying to be boring, Mitch, but you kind of are," Angeline said casually, grabbing a pen from the desk and fiddling with it. "I have an idea, though. We should get to know each other."

An idea that could reveal things about Mitch that Angeline had been dying to know. Like, did he have any family? What made him work for her dad? What kind of music did he listen to-- or was his whole life just as silent as him?

"I have an idea, too," Mitch replied. "We keep our relationship strictly professional by learning nothing about each other whatsoever."

Angeline frowned at that. "Isn't it your job to know stuff about me?"

"I already know everything I need to know."

This made Angeline scoff. "Oh, sure. Just everything my dad's said about me, right? That I go to Fair Hill High, I'm friends with three girls as airheaded as me, and I'm ungrateful for everything he does for me?"

Mitch stopped writing on the page in front of him. He released the pen from his grip and straightened his back, looking at the teenager in front of him. Angeline half-expected him to burst and start yelling, but he studied her for a few moments and then opened his mouth.

"No. I know that you're only here because you love your friends and you like to be near the beach. I know that you're not ungrateful for what your father does, but you would rather be in a family that actually pays attention to you rather than pays money into your bank account. I also know that as soon as you leave this place, you're never coming back because your father secretly scares you a little."

Angeline stared at him in amazement, feeling her heart start pounding harder in her chest. She swallowed nervously, rubbing her hands down the grey jogging bottoms that she was wearing. The brunette was pretty sure that nobody had ever read her like that before, or at least they hadn't tried to.

"You... You got all that from knowing me for a week and a half?" Angeline hummed, playing with a piece of thread hanging from the oversized band tee she wore tied around her waist.

"I'm observant," Mitch replied.

"Very observant," Angeline corrected him softly.

She wasn't sure why, but as Mitch returned back to his work a few seconds later, Angeline's gaze rested on him a few moments too long. Mitch was easy to look at; she had already acknowledged that he was extremely attractive the first time she laid eyes on him, but something had changed.

"How old are you, Mitch?" Angeline cleared her throat and her mind as she chucked her legs up onto the desk.

Mitch huffed. "Why should I tell you?"

"Maybe I want to know about who is living in my home," Angeline said. "I know Renolds and Winston are in their fifties, but you seem so young."

The man scoffed. "I'm twenty-two," he replied. "Twenty-three at the end of the year."

Angeline raised her brows a little. She thought he was around twenty-four, but it turned out he was even younger than she had expected. Only by a couple of years, but still. Mitch was too young to be tangled in a business as corrupt as her father's, she just wanted to know how he had passed her father's security check.

Mitch seemed to know exactly what she was thinking.

"I had an amazing CV." The corner of his lips tugged up into a small smirk as he shifted to look at her. "And... connections."

"Huh," the brown-eyed girl nodded. "You're a year younger than my brother and you can boss him around."

"Elliot doesn't let me 'boss him around,'" Mitch huffed. "He only listens to Winston or Renolds. You're the only one that listens to me. Sort of."

Angeline pouted a little as she sank further into the office chair. She felt bad for Mitch; she didn't realise that it was probably really hard for him to gain respect when he was so new and so young, especially considering the fact that both the Lewis men were so far up their own asses that they hadn't seen light in years.

"Yeah, well I'm nice." She sent him a toothy grin. "Most of the time. Elliot just wants to be like our dad, I wouldn't take it personally."

"Nothing's ever personal in a job like this," Mitch replied.

"But I'm your favourite, right?" Angeline teased. "Even though you can't make anything personal?"

This time Mitch actually gave a small laugh and shook his head in amusement. "Yeah... you're my favourite, Angeline."

The brunette beamed at his words, jokingly flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Thanks. You know, my friends call me 'Angel'. I hate my real name."

"I'm not calling you 'Angel.'" Mitch shook his head. "I'm not even supposed to call you 'Angeline.'"

"Oh, you'll come around."

... 

Somehow, Angeline managed to convince Mitch to take her to get some lunch out. She came up with the excuse that they could just tell her father she needed new tampons or something, and Mitch seemed to think it was okay.

The line in the drive-thru of Starbucks was long as hell, but Angeline insisted that it didn't matter and forced Mitch to wait in it. He sat there looking out of the window, drumming his fingers on the frame.

They hadn't even reached the speaker yet and they had been queuing for more than fifteen minutes. Angeline reached her legs out to rest on top of the dashboard, welcoming the sun through the glass.

"If we got into an accident, your legs would break in that position," Mitch mentioned without even shifting his head to look at her.

Angeline was unsure how he knew so much when half the time she swore he wasn't paying attention, but clearly the man was far more observant than she was. She was the itchy type-- she could never sit still, she always had to talk or be fiddling with something, but Mitch radiated calmness and composure.

"How--" Angeline shook her head. "Whatever. We're moving, like, two feet an hour right now."

"A car could hit us from forwards, behind, or left, Angeline," Mitch said, flicking his finger in each direction. "You should be more cautious of others."

"I am," she claimed but knew it was probably not true.

She fiddled with the white sock around her trainers, accidentally pulling it down a little too far and revealing the small outline of a turtle near her ankle. Mitch shifted in his seat, brows raising at the sight.

"Is that a tattoo?"

"Yeah," Angeline grinned, pulling it down even further to show him. "I got it done a few months ago as a dare. Don't tell my dad, though. I had to forge his signature on the parental consent forms. You like?"

"It's a turtle," Mitch deadpanned, although it did look quite nice and minimalistic on her tan skin.

"Well done," Angeline scoffed. "You're right. You are really observant, Mitch."

Mitch ignored her sarcastic remarks as they finally pulled up to the speaker a couple of minutes later. Angeline leaned across to speak into it.

"Hey, Evan," she recognised his voice.

"Angel!" The Starbucks barista called from the other side. "The usual?"

"Of course," Angeline replied. "Can I have two?"

"Coming right up, Angel."

"Why do you need two?" Mitch questioned as they pulled away from the speaker, only a few feet before they were stuck in the line again.

"One for me, one for you," Angeline said as if it was obvious.

Mitch scoffed. "Unless you drink black coffee, I don't think I can accept."

"Oh, come on," Angeline rolled her eyes. "It's not black, but you'll love it. I promise."

"Doubt it."

"I think the words you are looking for are 'thank you very much, Angel.'"

"Thanks, Angeline."

Around ten minutes later, Angeline paid for the drinks and Mitch drove around into the carpark, turning the engine off so she could hand him the drink. The dark-haired man pulled a funny face as he pulled the lid off and sniffed the drink.

"It smells like calories and sugar," Mitch insisted bluntly.

Angeline rolled her brown eyes as she took a long sip from her straw. "It's got a couple pumps of caramel and some milk in it. Don't have a heart attack."

"Why is there ice--"

"Because it tastes better that way," Angeline huffed, snatching the straw from his hands.

Her dainty fingers tore the paper around it and she shoved it into the cap, forcing it back into Mitch's hands. He sighed and lifted it to his lips, taking a small swig. Angeline watched as his brows furrowed a little, contemplating whether he liked it or not.

"It's not bad," he admitted, taking another gulp.

"I'll take that as a win for me," the brunette smiled, settling back in her seat and drinking more of her favourite drink.

Mitch swatted at her legs. "Legs down now, I'm driving home."

"Fine." She rolled her eyes, doing as she was told.

They rode in silence for a while, not that Angeline was bothered this time around. Her mouth was kept occupied by the drink in her hands so she wasn't blabbering whatever came next to her mind. Mitch was always silent anyway, his hands never leaving the wheel in front of him as his eyes looked everywhere.

"Oh, bloody hell," Angeline cursed, wincing when her gaze landed on a group of teenagers stood a few feet away from their car. "Can you please move?" She begged as she sunk lower in the chair.

Mitch shot her a look. "We are literally in traffic right now. Where do you want me to go?"

The Rapp man didn't see a problem until he followed Angeline's line of vision, spotting a few people her age stood around. Mitch recognised two of them-- Levi Edwards and Grace King, but he pretended to be in the dark.

"Those your friends?" He asked.

"Obviously not," Angeline snapped, hand covering her face as she turned away from them. "The two that are making out? That's my cunt of an ex-boyfriend and one of my old best friends. So, yeah, if you could get this car moving any faster then I would really appreciate it."

Mitch stared at them for a few moments. "I think we should say hi."

Before he could reach to roll the window down, Angeline's hand snapped out and she grabbed his wrist as hard as she could, twisting it back a little. Mitch was slightly shocked at her grip, but quickly jerked his hand down to escape her hold.

"I was joking." He rolled his eyes with an amused smirk, moving forward as the traffic started to go. "Ever heard of a joke, Angel?"

The brunette nearly choked at the sound of her nickname rolling off his tongue. He had clearly meant it in a sarcastic manner, but somehow, her name in his low, rough voice had made her want to melt in her seat. Her breath hitched for a second as she struggled to come up with the right words.

"Y-Yeah," Angeline lamely spoke. "I've heard of jokes."

Mitch glanced at her in amusement, realising he'd stumped the clever girl with the big mouth.

"Well done, Angeline."

...

To Ciara:   
why does mitch calling me angel literally turn me on so much

Angeline was biting her grinning lips as she flopped down onto her king-size bed, feet fiddling with each other in the air behind her. After a slightly awkward drive home, she was finally free from Mitch's intense gaze and was free to privately text her best friend all she wanted about how undeniably attractive he was.

From Ciara:  
girl--

To Ciara:   
literally want him to run me over pls

From Ciara:  
i can't with you. meet me by your front gate in 10.

Angeline giggled to herself, rolling her eyes in amusement. She flipped over so that she was lying on her back, probably flattening the curls she had created this morning due to pure boredom. The room smelt like the scented candle inside her candle warmer, making her feel cosy.

A few minutes of staring at her plain ceiling later, the teenage girl climbed off of her bed and started to head outside, over to the gate at the end of the driveway. Whilst she was suspended, she wasn't allowed out of it and her friends weren't allowed inside, so she would just talk to Ciara from the other side.

Another minute went by and Angeline saw an unfamiliar black car pull up. It was sleek, not a single dirt mark or smear on it, and the windows were tinted so dark that Angeline couldn't tell if she knew the people inside or not.

The driver's side opened up and a man Angeline had never seen before in her life sent her a wide grin, adjusting one of the buttons on his blazer. Angeline stood from where she'd sat cross-legged on the grass, sending him a confused look.

"You must be Daniel's daughter," the man greeted her, his teeth far too white and straight to be true. "What's your name?"

He had a thick New York accent-- or at least, that's what Angeline assumed it was. The man peeled his sunglasses off of his face, revealing the coldest blue eyes that Angeline had ever seen. He was probably her dad's age, hair greying and wrinkles around his eyes.

"Who are you?" She folded her arms across her chest.

"Why don't you buzz me in? I can introduce myself properly." The grin never left his face, his teeth nearly blinding Angeline.

She despised the way he spoke to her-- all condescending-like, as if she was some sort of child. Angeline wasn't stupid, she wasn't going to get Mitch to buzz in some stranger who wouldn't even tell her his name.

"That sounds like something a pedo would say," Angeline shrugged, although inside she was slightly worried about who this man was-- he didn't seem like a friend of her dad's.

"Angeline!" Mitch's voice boomed from all the way by the front door.

Angeline cocked her head over her shoulder to see him running towards her, his shaggy hair flying slightly around his head. As soon as he got there, he placed one large hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently behind him, his other hand resting by his waist where a pistol was attached.

"Listen, I don't want any trouble," the stranger said.

"Then I suggest you get back in your car and go back to wherever you came from," Mitch growled, teeth gritted as he tightened his grip around the pistol. "And don't come back."

The stranger was flicking his eyes between Mitch's hand and the two people on the other side of the gate, clearly wondering whether it was worth it or not. The fake smile from before returned on his face and he looked to Angeline, ignoring Mitch's presence altogether.

"Angeline, tell your father I stopped by, yeah?" The way he emphasised her name made her skin crawl, and Mitch's grip tightened on her shoulder.

His large hands didn't remove themselves from the pistol by his hip or the girl's shoulder until the car was long gone, leaving Angeline stunned into silence. When Mitch started to pull her towards the house, Angeline tugged away.

"Who the hell was that?" Angeline demanded, trying to keep up with his quick pace towards the home.

Mitch hesitated. "Your father's new business competition."

What the hell kind of business was her father running to be making enemies so bad he needed to hire extra security who felt threatened enough by them to pull out a gun?

She had a feeling she wasn't going to get much out of Mitch, so as soon as she entered the house, she went straight up to her bedroom and texted Ciara that they had to meet up after school another day.

Everything was becoming... weird.


	8. Chapter 8

It was finally Friday-- the last day of Angeline's suspension.

Since the strange man turning up on Wednesday, Angeline couldn't stop thinking about how concerned Mitch had been. She didn't talk to her brother or father much, not that she ever did anyway, but just sat and analysed them.

They acted like normal-- never talking much about business at the dinner table and later disappearing to the meeting room with glasses of whiskey, not to be seen for at least another three hours.

So many theories ran through her head. Her main idea was that perhaps her dad had made a deal with the man and not followed through. If Mr Lewis felt genuinely threatened of course he was going to bring in more security, which would explain Mitch's sudden existence in the Lewis household.

That had to be it.

As soon as four o'clock came, Angeline was out of the prison called her own home and she was heading to the ice cream parlour on the beachfront with Ciara and Paige. Apparently, the Queen Bee had a lot to talk about with Angeline, and if she was being a hundred percent honest, Angeline wasn't exactly looking forward to listening to all the petty high school drama. She had bigger concerns.

The house was silent when she woke up. It was nine in the morning, so she realised Elliot and their father had already left for work. Angeline did her usual morning routine; a quick shower, little bit of skincare, and chucked on an oversized vintage tourist tee and some comfy black cycling shorts.

Angeline had already done all of her school work yesterday, so she had nothing to do today. After scrolling through her social media for an hour or two, Angeline found herself at a dead-end, boredom creeping in on her for the hundredth time that day. She groaned, flopping back onto her bed and letting go of the mobile device.

Maybe bothering Mitch again wouldn't be a bad idea. He might even take her out for a coffee again if she asked him nicely enough. Ciara had her minor addiction to weed, Paige had her obsession with popularity, and Angeline craved overpriced iced coffee. Being suspended meant she couldn't pick a cup up after or before school anymore, and a mere two days without it was driving her nuts. The iced coffee that she made at home never tasted the same.

Angeline licked her lips at the thought of her favourite beverage and climbed up from the mattress, slipping out of her bedroom. Mitch hadn't come in to check on her today yet and she hadn't heard him walking around. Her first stop was to the security's main room, but it was void of any of its members.

The shaggy-haired man wasn't downstairs or outside either, even when Angeline asked one of the gardener's if he had seen him. Apparently, nobody had seen Mitch for an hour or two, but Renolds was wandering around somewhere outside.

Angeline didn't want Renolds, she wanted Mitch... or rather Mitch to take her to go and get her coffee.

"Where are you going?" Angeline heard the older man snap from behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder, rolling her eyes at the sight of Renolds standing behind her with his arms folded across his chest. He looked like he had just busted her doing drugs or something, not about to go through the backdoor of her own home. Angeline scoffed as she looked at him-- how Paige found him attractive she would never know.

"Inside," she pointed out the obvious. "Why? Am I not allowed to do that?"

"Less with the attitude."

"Gonna chuck me in my room again?" Angeline grumbled under her breath so he couldn't hear as she finally entered her home, trying to get as far away from the head of security as possible.

It wasn't unusual for him to be home when her father was at work, but recently he had been following Mr Lewis around like some sort of loyal dog. Angeline climbed the marble staircase and headed towards the back of the house where the security's rooms all were, hoping to catch Mitch around there. She could have asked Renolds where he was, but then he would actually answer her and she hated the sound of his voice.

Angeline raised her fist to knock on Mitch's bedroom door when she heard his voice start to rise on the other side. She couldn't make out what he had said, but he sounded frustrated. Her curiosity got the best of her and Angeline leaned with her ear against the wood, trying to make out what he was talking about.

"Two months, sir. Two months." There was a long pause and Angeline realised he was on the phone-- but talking to who? Her dad most likely, based on the title. "Lewis said it's happening then."

Angeline swallowed thickly, blinking rapidly. Before she could properly comprehend Mitch's hushed words, Angeline felt a large hand wrap around her arm and tug her backwards from the door. She gasped loudly, cringing when she felt her back press against Renold's body. He held her close, his breath hot in her ear.

"I knew you were up to no good," Renolds hissed harshly, tightening his grip on her arms when she struggled against him.

"Get off me, dickhead!" Angeline swung her elbow backwards, but it was blocked rather easily and his strong arm was then wrapped around her chest, pinning her arms together. "I wasn't doing anything!"

Before Renolds could reply, Mitch's bedroom door suddenly swung open. There was no phone in his hand anymore but he looked furious, his hazel eyes snapping from Angeline's restrained figure to the man double her size keeping her hostage. Mitch marched closer to them.

"What the fuck?" Mitch snapped. "What did she do, huh? What did she do?"

"She was listening through your door, Rapp," Renolds let go of Angeline with one arm to shove the younger man backwards. "Mr Lewis instructed me to do whatever I deem necessary if she acts out of line, and I am your head, so I suggest you leave it."

Mitch seemed to hesitate once he realised that Angeline had been listening, his figure stiffening momentarily. It was so quick that only Angeline seemed to notice. She prayed that he wouldn't get too angry at her-- Mitch was the only person in this house she actually liked.

"I told her to stand outside," Mitch lied, much to both Angeline and Renolds' shock. "I told her to wait for me to finish up some stuff."

Angeline wasn't sure why Mitch was lying until she remembered the way he had acted when Renolds had roughly handled her last time. He was clearly against the way that the men of the house seemed to manhandle her, so he was probably just looking out for her. Angeline couldn't be more grateful than when those words slipped past his lips-- he had probably just saved her a whole lot of trouble from Renolds and her father.

As soon as she felt Renolds death grip on her weaken, the brunette tugged herself away from his grimy hands and closer to Mitch. She rubbed her arms which were already aching, his red fingertips glowing on her sun kissed skin. Renolds hesitated as he looked between the two of them.

"Angeline is not allowed inside security's bedrooms," he stated firmly.

"That's why he told me to wait outside, duh," Angeline retorted. "I'm not sneaking around with Mitch if you think that's what you can report back to my dad to make the hand marks on my arms look any better."

Mitch closed his eyes at Angeline's vulgar way of threatening, wishing the teenage girl had an off button or something. He wondered how she could be so popular at school when all she seemed to do was confront people and make crude remarks.

"Look, don't touch Angeline like that again and I won't mention it to Mr Lewis," Mitch tried to persuade.

"Fine," Renolds snapped before his name came from the walkie talkie strapped to his hip. "I gotta go."

They watched as he backed away, pulling the device out of the hoop and speaking into it harshly. If he was in a bad move before, he was certainly in a worse mood now. Angeline nearly grinned at his defeated figure until she remembered that Mitch had lied to get her out of trouble-- and then she just wanted answers.

"What was that?" She asked him once he was gone. "You totally just covered for me."

Suddenly, Angeline was being shoved towards Mitch's bedroom. He wasn't harsh about it, but Angeline was more worried about his silence. His hazel eyes were cold and his jaw was slightly clenched as he shut the door behind them. Angeline gaped at him, her back pressed against the wall-- she was so in shock that she didn't even look around his room to try and gather some information on who he was, which she would normally do.

"What did you hear?" Mitch demanded, moving closer to her.

Angeline's eyes were slightly wide. "Wha- what?" She stammered.

"You were listening to me through the door," Mitch elaborated. "Tell me what you heard."

"Nothing!" Angeline lied, "I didn't hear anything!"

"Don't lie to me," his voice lowered a little into a sort of rough whisper. "Look, Angeline. I'm not going to be mad at you. I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to know what you heard. For my safety, and for your safety."

His tone was so sincere that Angeline started to really worry; knowing for sure now that Mitch was not some normal security guard like Renolds and Winston were. Her hands felt behind her and she gripped the edge of a mirror, holding onto it tightly.

"I didn't hear anything," she whispered again.

"Angeline," Mitch warned.

She hesitated. Angeline didn't know if she could trust Mitch-- even if she did think he was okay, she was still weary of him. What if he was lying to her right now? What if as soon as she told him what she had heard, even though it wasn't much, he threatened her into silence or even put a bullet straight through her head?

"I heard-" Angeline's voice started in a whisper but she cleared her throat and started again to sound more confident. "I heard you say that something's going to happen in two months, b-but that's it. I swear. I won't tell anybody, I promise."

Mitch moved closer to her, so close that she could smell his cologne and feel his hot breath on her skin. The brunette wasn't exactly opposed to the proximity, but it did make her feel a little uncomfortable knowing that he was probably contemplating what to do to her right now.

"What you heard you cannot repeat, Angeline," Mitch demanded quietly. "Not to Ciara, not to anybody. Remember when I told you I wasn't the bad guy? I was telling you the truth."

Angeline forced herself to give him a small nod, if not in agreement then for him to at least think she was agreeing. Her brain was whirring, all of the wheels turning as her heart pounded in her chest. If she knew who Mitch was talking to on the phone then maybe it would be a lot easier for her to work out what his intentions really were.

Was he working with or against her father? What the hell was her father planning in two months? If he was working with her father, then her dad didn't want her to know something, but if Mitch was working against her father and he was the good guy, that would make her father the bad guy, which honestly wasn't that surprising.

For some reason, Angeline found herself relaxing. If Mitch was here to expose her father for some sort of business lie, then her dad deserved it-- when she said she hated Mr Lewis and Elliot, Angeline meant it. She'd much rather see Mitch succeed in whatever he was doing than her family.

"Okay," she found herself whispering. "I won't say anything. I don't- I don't really know what the two months thing means anyway."

"Good," Mitch released a small breath of relief as he backed away from her. "It's better if you just don't understand."

Angeline swallowed before she heard the device on Mitch's desk buzz. It was the ring of the gate, Angeline had heard security answer it many times. He moved over to it and checked through the cameras before he pressed a button and buzzed them in.

"Who is it?" Angeline asked.

"Your friends, Ciara and that blonde girl from before," Mitch told her. "Remember what I said, Angeline."

Angeline nodded a little and moved to his bedroom door, opening it. She turned back to face him, seeing the muscular man running his hand through his dark hair with his back turned to her. She realised that he was in simply some sort of vest and some gym shorts. She'd probably interrupted him on one of his few days off.

"Mitch... I... I don't know anything about you or what you're really doing here, but you can trust me," Angeline promised quietly. "A-And I mean that. When I told you I hated my dad, I meant it."

The hazel-eyed man didn't reply, watching her for a few seconds until Angeline sighed and left. She heard the front door open and her friends call her name in their sing-song tones and Angeline felt some sort of relief flood her; at least when Paige and Ciara were here she could pretend her life was semi-normal. 

...

Catching up with Paige and Ciara had gone fine enough. The three teenage girls had sat around in the floats in Angeline's pool instead of going out for icecream, ignoring the gardener who was trimming hedges nearby as they spoke about things that were probably making the man extremely uncomfortable.

It turned out that Ciara was right-- Paige was on the prowl for a new addition to the small trio. According to the blonde beauty, her parents had to be either actors or millionaires, she needed a GPA above 3.5 at least, a hot body, beautiful natural features with the exceptions of perhaps a nose job or subtle lip fillers, and a good fashion sense that didn't clash with hers.

Angeline blew air past her lips when she'd heard the qualifications, but she knew that Fair Hill High was crawling with girls that fitted exactly that. Everybody already had their own cliques, however, Angeline knew it wouldn't take much for Paige to convince some poor unsuspecting girl to sit with them at lunch and then boom! just like a fly to a flytrap, you're stuck with the blonde for life.

"Afternoon, Peggy," Angeline grinned at the family's chef as she slid into the white leather stool on the other side of the island.

The woman who had to be in her fifties glanced up, sighing slightly at the teenage girl. "No, I cannot take the peas out of your rice, I cook it all together."

Angeline rolled her eyes a little. "I wasn't gonna ask that... I was gonna ask what you were making for dinner, but I guess that kind of answers it for me, huh?"

"Mongolian beef," the woman elaborated without looking up from where she was finely dicing chillies. "Your father specifically asked for it tonight."

"Why?" Angeline pestered, a small frown on her face. "What's tonight?"

"I don't know. I'm just the chef."

Angeline couldn't argue with that. She stood up from her seat and wandered upstairs to her bedroom where she had a quick shower to get rid of any chlorine from the pool. Once she was finished, she changed into a pair of small cotton shorts and another oversized vintage tee, letting it fall to just above her knees and around her elbows. Her wet hair was brushed all the way down to where it rested below her breasts and she had applied all of her lotion.

"Angeline!" She heard her father call from downstairs. "Tea is ready."

The brunette forced herself out of the comfort of her bedroom and jogged back down the marble staircase, all the way to the dining area. Angeline nearly choked on her own spit when she saw her father sat at the head of the oak table, Elliot on the other side of him. There was an empty space on Mr Lewis' other side, but occupying the other seats were Mitch, Renolds, and Winston.

She accidentally made eye contact with Mitch and cast her eyes away, shuffling into the seat next to her father. Immediately, the conversation went back to normal, Elliot and Winston talking about something related to football. Angeline thanked Peggy when the woman placed her bowl of food in front of her and started to eat.

The brunette pretended that she was simply sitting by herself, letting the men at the table all start to get rowdy over debating whether or not the new soundbar in the cinema room had been worth it. Dinners like this happened once every month or so, where Winston and Renolds would join them for food and no mentions of work would be made.

Mitch didn't look like he was particularly enjoying himself, but he seemed to add things in at the right time and gain the approval of Angeline's father. Meanwhile, the girl sat there, shovelling spoonfuls of rice and beef into her mouth as she got caught up in her own thoughts and conspiracies.

If Mitch really was working against her father, then now that she thought about it, it really made sense. He didn't even have anything in common with this family, and he didn't kiss up to Mr Lewis like the other security guards.

"So, Angeline," Mr Lewis' booming voice caught her attention. "How was your day? I feel as though I haven't seen much of you this week."

Renold's ice eyes seemed to narrow on the teenage girl, like he was silently threatening her or something. Mitch looked over with a neutral expression-- either he really trusted her or he was extremely good at hiding his emotions, perhaps both.

"It was fine," Angeline answered her father. "Just did some extra homework and stuff."

"How exciting," he said mockingly, causing Elliot to snicker from next to him and Angeline rolled her dark eyes.

He quickly moved on to ask Elliot about his day, to which Elliot had a lot to discuss. Apparently, he'd gone to Los Angeles to meet with clients and that things were looking good. Mr Lewis found that far more interesting, sending no condescending remarks Elliot's way. Angeline clenched her fists beneath the table as he spoke, glaring holes into the empty bowl in front of her.

She was not starting a fight today, she was going to keep calm and composed.

Angeline kept the silent promise to herself, avoiding all conflict with the five men sat around the table. No doubt if she started something with one of them would they all come running to attack her, minus Mitch of course, so the brunette kept her lips sealed and her eyes trained on the white table cloth.

When she raced upstairs to bed that night, Angeline locked her bedroom door behind her and climbed straight into her queen-size comfort, laying above the duvet and turning up the AC until she was cool. Angeline barely focused on the stiffling heat of her room, her mind set on what Mitch was doing in her home.


	9. Chapter 9

Principal Warren had been waiting at the gates for Angeline as soon as Mitch dropped her into the school that Monday morning. She groaned and rolled her eyes, throwing her head back as she forced herself out of the car and grabbed her backpack. Mitch had said something about keeping silent so she didn't get in trouble, but the brunette was already halfway out of the car and grumbling a goodbye.

The meeting had only taken ten minutes, but they were some of the most infuriating minutes of Angeline's entire life. Listening to Mr Warren drone on about how drugs would be the death of her made her want to, well, die, because Angeline had never even done anything but weed, and she didn't plan on snorting lines of coke anytime soon.

He'd also moved Angeline from her math class and into another one that Grace wasn't in, in an effort to separate the two girls. Angeline did as Mitch had briefly told her, sitting with her arms folded and her lips sealed shut. It took great effort, but she managed until the door finally closed behind her and she was free in the busy halls of Fair Hill High.

"Fucking bald-headed prick," Angeline muttered under her breath as she joined sides with Paige and Ciara. "I swear to God, Grace got off so lucky."

Paige rolled her bright blue eyes. "Enough about that snake," she sneered. "Grace is dead to us, so I want you guys to meet our new friend."

Ciara raised her brows as they passed by all the other students. "You've found someone else already?"

"Mhm," Paige hummed. "You guys know Darcy Williams, right?"

Angeline frowned, never having heard of the girl before. She listened to Ciara gasp and they started to talk about her, Paige leading them both in the direction where the mystery girl apparently was. The blonde pushed open the main doors to the school and the sun poured down on all of them, warming Angeline's shoulders and causing her to squint in the bright light.

"Darcy!"

A pale girl with blonde wavy hair glanced up from where she was texting somebody on her iPhone, her green eyes locking with the three girls' gaze. Angeline blinked; astonished simply by the sight of this teenage girl. She had no idea how she had never noticed her before, but Darcy Williams was one of the most beautiful girls that Angeline had ever laid eyes on before.

There was something about her-- maybe it was the black leather jacket over her tiny crop top, or the fishnets showing beneath her ripped mom jeans. She had a darker style in contrast to Paige's light aesthetic, and she was the complete opposite to Grace who had only ever worn pink. Maybe that was where Paige was going with Darcy.

"Hey, Paige," Darcy hummed, sliding her phone into her back pocket.

Her eyes scanned the other two girls either side of the blonde, Darcy's eyes gliding over Angeline's body a little longer than normal. Usually, Angeline didn't care when boys or girls stared at the plunged neckline of her dress, but Darcy was intimidating in a way that Angeline sort of liked.

"This is Ciara and this is Angel," Paige introduced them. "Guys, this is Darcy Williams. She transferred to Fair Hill High last week and her dad is high up in Google."

"Oh, sick," Ciara grinned.

"Angel, huh?" Darcy smirked, her bold lipstick making her angelic face seem so much more dangerous. "Never heard a name like that before."

Angeline swallowed thickly in an attempt to collect herself as quickly as possible. "My full name's Angeline, my friends just call me 'Angel', though."

"British, too... Love the accent," Darcy was clearly extremely confident, her tone slow and cocky as if to make sure people took the time to listen to whatever she had to say. "Angeline... You're the girl who got suspended for punching the girl that looks like Pinkie Pie threw up on her, right?"

The brunette nearly snorted at her joke. "Yeah... Yeah, that was me."

The school bell rang shrilly from the building a few feet away, making Paige groan and roll her eyes. "I'll catch you girls at lunch. Darcy, we always meet here, okay?"

Darcy did a careless salute with her cherry-painted nails and started to head towards the main building. Angeline stared after her, mouth slightly agape. Ciara nudged her with a grin.

"Did I just watch you fall in love?" Ciara snickered.

"Perhaps," Angeline squeaked as she came back to earth, shaking her head and tightening her grip on the bag thrown over her shoulder.

"She was totally into you too," Ciara linked their arms as they headed towards the art block where they shared their first class. "So... Did she make you want to let her run you over like Mitch does when he called you 'Angel?'"

Angeline swatted her friend. "Shh!" She giggled.

"All I'm saying is that I better still be your prom date."

"Of course, of course."

...

"Guys, we need to plan Angel's birthday party, ASAP."

Angeline sighed as she chucked her bag beneath the bench her friends sat on, including Darcy who was fiddling with one of the chains around her neck. The sun was sweltering, even for the petite brunette who was in one of her smallest summer dresses, so she wondered how on earth their new friend was wearing a leather jacket and jeans.

"I don't need a birthday party," Angeline rolled her eyes with an amused smile. "Maybe we could all just order pizza to mine and watch films on the projector outside."

Paige groaned loudly. "You're turning eighteen, not fifteen, Angel. We're having a party. Will your dad let us have it at yours?" She looked to Darcy and gasped loudly. "You should see Angel's house, it's huge. Her father's the CEO of NewsFlash and a bunch of other apps."

"NewsFlash?" Darcy raised her brows. "You must be rolling in money. Everyone and their grandma has that shit on their phone."

"Yeah, I guess," Angeline sighed. "But I don't think we could have it at mine. My dad would never let us."

"What's the point in having a huge house if you don't invite loads of people over?" Paige grumbled, but eventually she just rolled her eyes and released a sigh of exasperation. "I suppose we could have it at mine again."

"Or we could order pizza and--"

Angeline was cut off by a harsh glare from the blonde. Ciara snickered a little, shaking her head. The Lewis girl decided to just give in and let Paige plan whatever she wanted. Angeline liked partying, she loved to get drunk and waste the night away on the dancefloor with her friends, and Paige always did throw the best parties at Fair Hill...

"Okay, well, I think it's easier to discuss who's not invited and that's Grace and Levi," Ciara snapped, her brown eyes steering in the direction of the pair who were pressed against a brick wall, practically dry humping each other a few feet away from their group of friends.

"Who does that bitch even think she is?" Paige growled. "Darcy, here's another rule-- you don't talk to either of those two jerkoffs, right? They fucked Angel over, and none of us hang out with people that have fucked either of us over before."

Darcy pursed her lips and nodded. "Got it."

"Anybody on your death list that we should know about, Darcy?" Ciara questioned.

The green eyed girl shrugged as she finally peeled off her leather jacket, her black crop top now much more visible. Angeline didn't want to be a pervert, but Darcy had a nice body-- she was hot-- and Angeline hated herself for thinking Darcy was hot in a different way to how she always said Paige and Ciara was hot.

Darcy was hot in the way that Angeline was attracted to her, like a Mitch-Rapp-kind-of-hot. She wasn't sure how she was going to just be friends with this girl when before Darcy even opened her mouth Angeline already had her head in the gutter.

"Nobody yet," Darcy admitted. "I'll be sure to let you know if anyone does, though."

"Good," Paige said before she looked at Angeline. "Angel!" She snapped. "Why are you being so quiet today? It's weird."

Angeline seemed flustered for one of the first times ever, shaking her head as she pushed some of her straightened hair back behind her ear. She had been quiet for a number of reasons; her new friend was hot as fuck, Mitch was hiding something, and her family were obviously up to no good.

"Dunno," she sighed. "Lot on my mind, I guess."

Ciara frowned. "Well, don't stress!" She threw her arm around her shoulders. "You're eighteen this Friday. In four days you'll finally be able to get with Mitch."

"Stop!" Angeline laughed and swatted her friend for the second time that day. "God, Ciara. If you weren't as straight as a curly fry, I'd think you wanted to get with Mitch."

Ciara crinkled her nose at this whilst Darcy looked between them. "Who's Mitch?"

"Oh, Mitch is one of the super hot security guys that works for Angel's dad. He's, like, in his early twenties and we all think he has a thing for Angel," Paige said. "Which is too bad, 'cause otherwise I'd be totally over that man like a rash."

Angeline rolled her eyes a little. Whilst Paige and Ciara insisted Mitch was into her a little, Angeline liked to beg to differ. It was literally his job to look after her and besides, he always acted far too professional to catch feelings for her. They were complete opposites-- it would never work.

"You're straight, Angel?" Darcy looked Angeline dead in the eye.

Whilst she was caught a little off guard by the forward question, Angeline had sworn to herself in the few periods before their lunch break that she wasn't going to be putty in Darcy's hands like she was before the first period. Sure, the blonde girl was attractive, but being all weak and giggly wasn't Angeline and she had to get over it if they were going to be in the same friendship group now.

"Bisexual," Angeline replied. "You?"

"Me too," the alternative girl hummed with a small smirk on her face and a glimmer behind her green eyes. "I can tell Ci is gay and you're straighter than a ruler, huh?" She looked to Paige.

Paige raised her brows as she nodded. "Yep."

"Paige is an imposter in our LGBTQ+ club," Ciara snickered, earning a small glare.

"Whatever. I have a theory that no girl can be a hundred percent straight," Darcy spoke, making all three girls look at her in interest. "Listen, girls are just too fucking attractive for that shit. Paige, you can't deny if... I don't know... fucking Rihanna was like 'come here, let's have a quickie in the bathroom' you wouldn't go off with her."

Paige opened her mouth to protest before she shut it and scoffed, shaking her head. "Fair enough."

Ciara and Angeline both chuckled a little, shaking their heads. That lunch period, the four girls went back and forth talking about whatever they felt like, Darcy contributing with ease. She had something about her that made all three girls accept her straight away, all sure that something good was going to come out of the new foursome.

... 

Angeline waited outside Fair Hill High at four, ready to be picked up by Mitch after an hour of detentions held by Principal Warren himself. She had a week's worth of after schools to attend after being suspended. He'd decided to change them from lunch times to after schools so they could be a whole hour rather than forty-five minutes, much to Angeline's dismay.

The brunette groaned to herself, feeling the sweat starting to form around her hairline as she brushed it away. She'd had to pull her backpack off of her shoulders, feeling like it was making her even hotter under the harsh Californian sun. It was times like this where she thought maybe California wasn't worth it and some London weather might not be so bad.

"You look like you're about to cry," Darcy's voice came from beside Angeline.

Angeline jumped, holding a hand over her heart and chuckling a little when she realised it was just her new friend. The blonde hadn't even broken a sweat, though her leather jacket was now slung over her arm.

"Still not really used to the weather," Angeline admitted.

Darcy nodded in understanding. "I moved from Arizona, so I'm sort of used to it. When did you move here?"

"Sophomore year, so, like nearly three years ago," she replied. "But I do go back to London normally during breaks and stuff to see my mum."

"I've always wanted to go," Darcy hummed, leaning against the wall next to Angeline as she scanned the car park with squinted eyes. "Ever since my One Direction phase in the eighth grade."

Angeline's dark eyes nearly bulged out of her eyes. "You had a One Direction phase?"

"I didn't come out of the womb looking like the alt side of Tik Tok, you know," Darcy chuckled a little, making the girl next to her laugh too. "So... Do you need a ride home or are you waiting on somebody?"

"I'm waiting for Mitch," Angeline replied. "But thanks. I appreciate it."

"Looks like he's here," Darcy nodded in the direction of a black car pulling towards them.

Sure enough, the window rolled down to reveal the dark-haired man himself. His eyes flickered over Darcy for a second before they focused on Angeline and he jerked his head towards the passenger seat. Angeline gave her new friend a small smile as she moved back over to the car and slid in next to her security.

"How did your little meeting with your principal go?" Mitch asked casually as he pulled out of the carpark and onto the main road that led them back home.

"He's such a dick!" Angeline exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "He said I had to move math class because I was 'a threat to Grace' and that if I carried on with the drugs I was gonna end up six foot under like one of his old friends from high school."

Mitch hummed from where his gaze was focused on the road. "And how was your detention?"

"My DT made me want to commit," Angeline admitted. "No phones, nothing. I read the label on my water bottle thirteen times. Did you know Evian backwards is 'naive?' Also, why do you think they always put babies on the labels--"

"You're rambling," Mitch cut her off.

"You're boring," Angeline retaliated. "Okay, how about if I stop rambling, you start? Why don't you tell me who you were talking to on the phone on Friday? 'Cause I really can't get that out of my head when I'm supposed to be doing simultaneous equations--"

"I told you not to talk about that," Mitch nearly snapped. "It's best you don't know, okay? I thought you understood easily enough."

Angeline sighed, leaning her head back against the headrest behind her. She fiddled with the bottom of her summer dress, eyes trained on her tan thighs as she pursed her lips together.

"I know," she admitted glumly. "I'm sorry... I just-- I can't help wanting to know. I feel like I'm literally going to explode and it's all I can think about."

"Well stop thinking about it."

"As if it's that easy!" Angeline threw her hands in the air again, glancing over to Mitch with an incredulous expression written across her face. "It's just like how I can't keep my mouth shut! Sometimes I feel like I will literally die if I don't say whatever's on my mind. That's why I have two and a half friends."

There was a moment of silence where Mitch didn't seem phased by her small outburst. "A half?"

"Yeah," Angeline mumbled. "The girl I was standing with... I only met her today, so it's only a matter of time before I say something that will piss her off or make her cringe."

Mitch could sense that Angeline was genuinely upset with herself, she wasn't just making a passing comment. He sighed, tapping his slender fingers on the wheel they were wrapped around until the car slowed to a stop in a line full of traffic.

"Angeline... Have you ever been tested for ADHD?" Mitch asked quietly after a little hesitation.

She seemed offended for a second, quickly shaking her head. "No! I don't have... I mean..." Angeline started to stumble on her words, a small frown on her face. "Do you think I have ADHD?"

"Maybe," Mitch admitted. "The way you act and how you describe feeling sure sounds like it, but I'm not a doctor."

The teenage girl sat in silence for a few minutes, her fingers moving to her mouth as she stared out the window. The car started to move again, getting closer and closer to the Lewis household. What Mitch had said had seemed to open a new door in Angeline's mind, and she considered it a possibility. It would explain her inability to shut her mouth.

"Thanks," she murmured once they had made it home.

Angeline opened the door to the car, grabbed her bag and started to head towards the front door. As soon as she got upstairs, Angeline was stripping down and putting on her mustard yellow bikini top and bottoms, grabbing a towel on the way back downstairs. It was too hot to just lounge about in her room, she wanted to be in the pool where it was cooler.

Mitch was standing talking to the gardener by the edge of the pool when Angeline pushed open the glass doors, his back turned to her. A sly smirk crossed the brunette's face and she dropped her towel and phone, doing a run up. There was a splash as Angeline did a cannonball into the water, the liquid managing to spray Mitch's back.

He released a small yell at the cold sensation and whirled around, glaring a little at the girl who was emerging from the pool. She sent him a small wave and a shit-eating grin.

"Did it cool you down?" She asked.

"No."

Angeline frowned at his blunt tone as he finished talking to the gardener. She swam over to the edge of the pool and rested her arms and chin against it, waiting for Mitch to turn and look at her which he did seconds later.

"I'm going on break for a few hours," he said. "Winston's somewhere inside."

"Where are you going?" Angeline asked curiously.

"To the gym," Mitch replied in his usual monotone voice.

"You could get in the pool with me," the petite girl suggested with a small smirk as she swam backwards, gliding through the water effortlessly. "Swimming is one of the best workouts there is."

The dark-haired man stared at her for a few seconds as if he was wondering whether she was all there or not. Mitch scoffed and shook his head.

"Workout as in punching bags and weights, not swimming," he corrected her, and Angeline raised her brows, subtly scanning his body which was clad in a black tank top and Nike gym shorts.

To be honest, Angeline wouldn't mind hanging around the gym and watching Mitch workout, but that would be way too inappropriate. Even asking him to get in the pool with her sounded bad enough, even if it was a joke and deep down Mitch understood that.

Angeline sighed dramatically. "Okay, Mitch. I get it. You can't swim. It's okay, one out of three adults in the UK can't swim either--"

"I can swim," Mitch practically growled with a small glare. "I know you're just trying to annoy me."

"And it's working," Angeline giggled, swimming back towards him. "Fine, whatever. Go punch some bags and lift some weights, I'll just swim around all by myself, so lonely."

Angeline didn't quite realise how sexual and suggestive that would sound until the words left her lips in the tone that it did. Mitch's eyes seemed to widen a little and he turned his face away from her, as if he had only just realised that she was in a bikini or something-- a bikini that did wonders for the curves of her petite figure.

"Right. Have fun by yourself." Mitch cleared his throat and wandered off.

Angeline smiled to herself as she floated on her back. He was totally checking her out.

...


	10. Chapter 10

Angeline never liked to make a big deal of her birthday-- until the day finally arrived. When she woke up, the only thing she could hear was the whirring of the fan above her head and some birds tweeting outside. A giddy feeling spread across her chest like a child on Christmas day, the idea that she was finally eighteen being insane to her.

The fact that she was officially an adult was a hard concept for her to wrap her head around because she definitely didn't feel that old. It felt like last week that she was getting ready for her first day of year seven, but that was seven whole years ago now. She'd grown up quickly. Soon, she was off to one of the best colleges in the world and she'd be living her own life.

As soon as she got out of the shower, Angeline heard her phone buzzing from the countertop and did a mad dash towards it. With a towel wrapped around her body and another one in her dark hair, she answered the call from her mother excitedly.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," she sang poorly down the phone just like she did every single year. "Happy birthday dear Angel, happy birthday to you!"

Angeline chuckled. "Thanks, mumma."

"I can't believe my baby's finally eighteen," her mother released a dramatic sigh. "It feels like yesterday I was holding your hand and taking you to preschool."

A small smile crossed the girl's face. "I know. It's weird, I don't really feel eighteen."

"Any plans for the big day? Is your dad taking you out for dinner?"

"Ur, probably not, I think Paige is organising a get together at her place, so," Angeline spoke casually, knowing her father most likely wouldn't even remember that she was eighteen today.

"Well, I transferred some money into your account because I wasn't sure what to get you," her mother said.

"Thanks, mum."

The mother and daughter only spoke a few minutes longer before Angeline said she should start to get ready for school. She blow dried her hair and did some loose curls and her usual makeup routine and put on the white summer dress that made her feel like she should be in Italy on vacation, as well as a pair of Vans that matched.

Angeline was ready earlier than usual, grabbing her backpack and jogging down the staircase where she found Mr Lewis and Elliot getting ready for the day. The brunette pretended not to see them as she grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, eyeing them out of the corner of her eye to see if they even paid attention to her.

"Angeline, you'll need to be home tonight. We're having another meal with Renolds, as respect for all of the extra hours he's been putting in recently," Mr Lewis said and Angeline nearly dropped the fruit in her hand in disbelief.

"I can't," she said, making her brother look at her strangely. "I have a thing I need to do tonight."

She waited for a 'happy birthday' that never seemed to come. Mr Lewis glared at her slightly, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"It can't be any more important than this."

"It is," Angeline glared back with just as much fire. "It's important to me."

"Just be home at eight," Mr Lewis huffed before he was heading out of the kitchen door, his son right behind him.

She wasn't really sure what she was expecting, and even though Angeline despised the two men, it would have been nice to hear a happy birthday from her father and brother. Angeline took a hefty bite of the red apple, staring in the space that they had been as she chewed it bitterly.

"Ready for another fun day of school?" Mitch's sarcastic voice came from behind Angeline, causing her to jump.

The brunette looked over her shoulder, seeing the dark-haired man stood there swinging the keys around his slender fingers. Angeline noticed he had probably shaved this morning, his face appearing fresher than usual. He still wore the black shirt and the jeans he was always forced to wear, his radio and pistol attached to his hip too.

"At least it's Friday," Angeline hummed back, grabbing her backpack and heading out the door with him.

Once they were on the road, Angeline zoned out, her mind going to a hundred and one other places. She wondered if her friends would be waiting with gifts when she got to the front of the school, or maybe they'd wait until their free period during the second hour to give her her presents. She felt her stomach do flips with excitement, forgetting all about her father and brother.

"Ur, just one caramel frappuccino... extra caramel."

When Angeline snapped out of her daze, her forehead peeling from the window, she was more than surprised to find that they were in the Starbucks drive-thru, already at the speaker. It seemed quite quiet today, only a couple of cars ahead of them.

This was their usual routine, but before Angeline could reach across and slot her card in the machine, Mitch grabbed her small hand in his and pushed it away. She frowned in confusion, watching as he shoved his card in instead and paid for her drink.

"What are you--"

"Think of it as a happy birthday," Mitch shrugged casually, not even glancing at her as they moved ahead in line to the next window.

Angeline stared at him, her brown eyes shining a little. She couldn't believe that he had remembered when her own father had forgotten, and he was actually nice enough to get her something, even if it was as small as her usual coffee order.

"Thank you, Mitch," she said softly.

When the barista handed them the drink, Mitch muttered a small 'thanks' and handed it to Angeline before he drove off. She took a few sips, groaning at the taste like she did every single morning. No matter how many times she had it, Angeline would always adore the sweet flavour.

Angeline couldn't stop thinking about the man sitting next to her and she started to hate that her standards for men were so low that when one even remembered her birthday she was suddenly swooning for them. Well, it didn't help that Mitch looked like he had literally been carved by the angels themselves. If he wasn't a bodyguard, Angeline was pretty sure he could have been a model.

Once they pulled up to the school, Angeline saw Paige, Ciara, and Darcy all standing in their usual spot and she felt giddy all over again. Before Angeline could reach down and grab her backpack, Mitch quickly called her name and reached into the glove compartment in front of her, pressing a button so it fell open.

Angeline watched as his large hand grabbed a hold of an envelope and he handed it to her with a small nod. The brunette gasped quietly, her fingers quickly ripping it open to reveal a birthday card with a turtle in the middle and the slogan 'have a turtlely awesome day dude!' written beneath it.

She giggled quietly, skimming her hand over it. "It's so cute... Like the turtle on my ankle, right?"

Mitch nodded awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "I didn't really know what else you would like."

Angeline flipped it open.

'To Angeline,

Happy 18th Birthday.

Have a very good day.

From, Mitch.'

She smiled and shook her head in amusement at how Mitch the writing inside was. She could tell that he had probably hesitated to do this, considering he was all about keeping their relationship as professional as possible.

"I'd hug you if I didn't think you'd have an aneurysm over it," Angeline chuckled a little, closing the card and sliding it neatly into her backpack. "Thanks, Mitch. Seriously, it means a lot."

"You're welcome," he seemed to struggle to look her in the eyes when he said the words, hands gripping the steering wheel. "Have a good day at school."

"Thanks," Angeline whispered again before she slipped out of the vehicle.

As soon as Angeline was a few feet away, Mitch's car sped off out of the car park, leaving her stranded in the hell that everybody else called school. Her name was instantly being called by Paige and the blonde came running over, grabbing her by the arms.

"Happy birthday, Angel!" She squealed, wrapping her into a short hug. "You're finally eighteen."

Angeline chuckled a little. "Thanks, Paige."

Ciara and Darcy both gave their own little happy birthdays too before Paige was shoving a small jewellery box into her hands. Angeline flipped it open, her eyes widening at the necklace inside.

"It will totally go with your Cartier ring, and it's really minimalistic and cute," Paige explained.

Ciara got Angeline a bag that looked like her limited edition Chanel one, whilst Darcy had opted on a gift voucher and a homemade cupcake with pink sparkles and angel wings on top— it looked like something out of a 2000s coming of age film.

"It's a... special cupcake, if you know what I mean," Darcy winked. "Obviously don't eat it all."

"Let's all share," Angeline suggested.

The girls moved to a bench where Angeline broke the cupcake up into four pieces and handed it around, taking a bite of the vanilla sponge and groaning in delight.

"You should start your own business, Darcy," Ciara exclaimed with a mouthful of cake. "This is the bomb."

"It's good stuff, too," Darcy grinned mischievously, all four teenage girls giggling to themselves whilst the school bell rang obnoxiously from above. 

...

All day people had been raving to Angeline about how excited they were for her birthday party later, leading the brunette to assume that Paige had gone ahead and literally invited the entire school. She wasn't really bothered about it, so long as none of her friends forced them to all sing happy birthday to her at some point during the night.

When last period finally rolled around, Angeline found out that Darcy was in her gym class with her, the blonde and the brunette sitting off to the side whilst Coach Gomez yelled at the last few girls to stop messing around and leave the changing rooms.

They were both clad in the school's gym uniform-- a white polo shirt and a pair of navy blue shorts that some girls managed to get away with cutting so they were shorter. Angeline couldn't be bothered; she bought her shirt a few sizes too big to cover the ugly bottoms anyway, and she wasn't there to look like some sort of model-- she was there because she was being forced to by the school.

Not that gym class was that bad. Angeline grew up with dozens of hobbies like swimming or karate or archery or ballet, so as long as they weren't running, she was fine.

"I hate gym," Darcy grumbled from next to her, fiddling with the blonde curls that she hadn't bothered to tie back. "I hate this uniform."

Angeline smiled teasingly as she glanced Darcy over. Her legs seemed to go on for miles and she did look uncomfortable wearing something that wasn't leather or plaid or ripped, but she did somehow make it work.

"You look nice in something other than black," Angeline joked.

Darcy rolled her green eyes. "You're starting to sound like my mom, Angel."

"Well, at least we don't have to wear uniform twenty-four seven," Angeline shrugged, leaning her head against the wall behind her as they watched Coach Gomez argue with a couple of girls about them taking their earrings out. "In my old school we had to."

"I would revamp my uniform," Darcy hummed. "I'd look like some kind of private school vampire."

Angeline giggled and shook her head. "No, no. There was no way you could make my school uniform look better. It was a light blue shirt, tie, navy blazer, knee length black skirt, black tights, and black shoes. No jewellery, no makeup, no nail polish, no coloured hair."

"Where did you go to school? Prison?"

Before the Lewis girl could reply, Coach Gomez was blowing her whistle as loud and long as she could, forcing all of the girls to herd around her. Angeline realised that Grace was standing only a few people away from her, her hair tied up into its usual bright pink scrunchie and her matching nails adjusting it.

"Okay, girls, it's a Friday afternoon so let's take it easy, yeah?" Coach Gomez droned, her eyes glancing down to the clipboard in her hands as she sighed. "Let's have a nice, friendly game of dodgeball. We all know the rules by now, right, ladies?"

There was a chorus of bored replies, everybody agreeing to what the older woman was saying. Angeline zoned out, her attention being brought back a couple of seconds later by her name being called.

"So Grace is captain of team one, and Angeline is team two," the coach huffed. "Grace, you get the first pick of your team."

Angeline nearly snorted at the irony of the situation-- she couldn't believe she was about to partake in something as cliche as a high school dodgeball game against one of her ex-best friends. Nevertheless, the girl remained unbothered, folding her arms across her chest as she watched Grace scan the crowd of girls with a smirk on her face.

"Hmm..." She tapped her cheek with her pink nail. "I'm gonna go with the new girl. Darcy."

A frown immediately took place on Angeline's face, her mouth acting before her brain. "What the hell?" She blurted.

"I object," Darcy glared a little.

Grace narrowed her dark eyes. "You can't object... I'm the team captain and I pick you."

Darcy looked to Coach Gomez as if to plead for help, but the woman simply jerked her head in the direction of Grace, forcing her to go over and stand behind her. Angeline was nearly seething with anger at this point. If she was in some child's cartoon, she was sure that steam would be pouring from her ears and her face would be bright red.

She kept composed, not letting Grace get the best of her. "Jane," she picked.

Eventually, both girls had their own teams, but not without a lot of heated glares every single time somebody the other one wanted on their side was stolen. At this point, every girl in the gym hall knew that this wasn't just a stupid game of dodgeball anymore- this was an ego thing. If Grace lost, Angeline was pretty sure all hell would break loose.

However, she had said this once and she would say it again: Angeline Lewis was not a loser. She was going to get Grace out.

As soon as Coach Gomez blew the whistle, her short legs were bounding towards the red dodgeballs in the middle of the room and she was clasping one to her chest and backing away. Angeline threw the ball as far as she could to hit a girl on the other side, grinning in victory when she got her out.

Everytime she had a ball in her hands, Angeline never missed. She dodged them as they came flying and threw them like her life depended on it, calling apologies when she got out some of the girls that she liked.

"Angel, to your left," Zara, a girl from her math class, called.

Angeline narrowly dodged a ball heading towards her face, a glare forming when she noticed it was Grace who had been the one to throw it. She ran to pick up the ball that had missed her, knowing from the height of the throw that Grace wasn't trying to get Angeline out, but was just trying to hurt her.

Angeline swerved to miss another ball that flew in her direction, only now noticing that there were about two other girls left on her team and only Grace, Darcy and two other girls on the other side. As soon as she saw the opportunity, Angeline threw the ball as hard as she could, grinning once it made impact with Grace's side.

"Argh!" The dark-skinned girl howled as she was knocked over a little, holding her hip. "What the hell, Angeline!?"

"Grace, you're out!" Coach Gomez blew the whistle.

The brunette girl smiled mischievously and waved goodbye to Grace, watching as her old friend stormed off the court and went to sit on the bench next to all the other girls that were also out. Angeline got out another girl before she heard her last teammate get hit from behind her by Darcy.

"Come on, Angel!" Somebody from her team called.

Oh shit, she nearly groaned when she realised that she was the last one left on her team.

Angeline avoided the balls that Darcy and the ebony-haired girl were throwing, ducking her head as she ran to grab one for herself. Once she did, she hurled it at the other girl, getting her out her first time.

"Just you and I now, Angel," Darcy smirked, both having one ball in their hands as they stared head on at each other.

Angeline shivered at the sound of Darcy's voice, her cheeks nearly heating up in embarrassment at all of the girls staring at them. Except, obviously they hadn't taken it the way that she had, and Angeline was once again hating herself for being so attracted to Darcy. The girl could slam the ball in her face and break her nose and Angeline would probably nod and say 'fair play.'

"You're going down, Darcy," Angeline called, passing the red ball between her hands slowly.

Darcy just winked back and Angeline nearly choked. God, what was it with all of the sexual innuendos for the past couple of days?

Using Angeline's distraction as an advantage, Darcy threw the ball so it collided with Angeline's arms. She didn't have enough time to drop the ball in her hands and already catch it, her mouth dropping open when Coach Gomez blew the whistle and she realised she had lost just like that.

Darcy walked over as her team did a small celebration, grabbing the ball out of Angeline's hands and throwing it on the floor by their feet. Her slender fingers reached up and she gently shut Angeline's jaw for her, her green eyes glittering and a smirk on her rosy lips. Angeline's eyes flickered down to them, her stomach fluttering.

"Y-You cheated," Angeline stammered.

Darcy scoffed a little. "Oh, please, Angel. I totally dominated you."

Once again, Angeline knew there were implications behind Darcy's words and she squirmed. Her birthday party tonight was going to be... interesting. She could feel it.

...


	11. Chapter 11

"This doesn't look like 'a small get-together.'"

Mitch was right. Angeline's birthday party had officially started twenty minutes ago and Paige's house was already filled with teenagers desperate to have a good time. She sat in the passenger side seat, her favourite little black dress on and and her hair and makeup done to look nothing less than professional.

She shot the man beside her an apologetic smile. "Okay, so it might be a little bit more than a few friends..."

"No shit," Mitch scoffed, running his large hand across his chin as he watched a group of guys walk up the long drive to the front door.

"Look, I'll walk home with Ciara and I'll be no later than, like, three. You don't have to wait up for me, just put the gate on pin-mode or whatever and I can just buzz myself in," Angeline proposed, not looking at him as she pulled down the sun visor to reapply her cranberry lipstick in the mirror.

"I'll be waiting," Mitch said. "No longer than three."

"Okay, deal. Thanks, Mitch." Angeline slid her phone into the small bag she had brought with her and flung it over her shoulder. "See you at three."

She heard him sigh as Angeline pulled open the door and climbed out onto the pavement, the warm night air causing goosebumps to momentarily rise on her bare arms. Mitch didn't pull away from the curb until Angeline was all the way at the front door and being pulled into Paige's arms.

"You're here," Paige grinned. "And you look hot as fuck, birthday girl."

"Thanks, Paige," the brunette replied, reciting similar words back to her friend. "Are Ciara and Darcy here yet?"

"Mhm. They're somewhere on the dancefloor." The blonde girl dragged her by the wrist to where the bar was, pouring her a shot. "First shot of alcohol as an adult. Go ahead."

Angeline smirked a little, clinking the shot glass against Paige's before the pair of teenagers both downed the alcohol. It warmed Angeline's chest and made her throat feel a little tighter, but in a way that had her craving more. She wanted to forget about how her family had forgotten her birthday and there was no better way to do it than with alcohol, good music, and her friends.

"Another, another," Angeline cheered above the loud music.

She waited for Paige to pour another as she leant against the bar behind her, looking at all of the flashing neon lights casting around the house. Hundreds of rich teenagers were having the times of their lives and Angeline found herself watching all of them, silently deciding who would forever live off their parents money and who would have genuinely successful futures.

Most of them were all fake as hell, but there were some good ones out there. A few of them came up to Angeline to say 'happy birthday' as she drank next to Paige. Some people were already pissed, and if this was like every other party of Paige's, people were most likely smoking high outside by the pool or doing some Class A drugs down in the basement.

Hip-hop was playing through the speakers, the bass causing the entire house to vibrate as Paige and Angeline monouvered their way through the crowds of people to try and find the other half of their friends. Her brown eyes landed on a familiar mop of blonde hair and Angeline paused in her tracks.

"What the fuck are they doing here?" Angeline burst, causing Paige to stop.

Paige's blue eyes scanned the crowd, narrowing on Levi and Grace who were making out against one of the pillars, his hands squeezing her ass through the tight jeans she wore. Angeline felt anger ignite in her chest, wondering what the hell made them think that they could turn up to her birthday party after she had made it clear how much she despised the both of them. 

"I didn't invite them, I swear," Paige promised.

The alcohol was already buzzing through Angeline's system, but if she was being real, she would have confronted them even if she was sober. Paige followed as the brunette stopped behind them, her dainty hands gripping them both by their shoulders and yanking them apart.

"Levi, Grace," she put on an exaggerated grin. "So cool of the two of you to turn up to my birthday party. Only..." She started to pout. "I checked the guest list and you weren't fucking invited."

Angeline's face was as hard as rocks, no signs of cracking anytime soon. Levi glanced down at the short girl with his bloodshot eyes and swollen lips, chuckling as he shook his head.

"Aw, no need to be like that. Don't get yourself so worked up, Angel."

"You know what?" Angeline suddenly yelled, although above the music and singing she was barely heard by anybody else. "You know fucking what, Levi?"

She yanked on his shirt and shoved him as hard as she could against the staircase he'd been kissing Grace against, watching gladly as he winced.

"I am so fucking sick and tired of men speaking condescendingly to me as if I'm some sort of idiot that can't comprehend basic English language!" She snapped. "Don't use that fucking tone with me, don't call me Angel, and don't ever fucking bother turning up to one of Paige's parties ever again. Either of you!"

Levi and Grace stared at Angeline in surprise before Grace was tugging on his arm and whispering something about leaving. The blonde boy stared at Angeline with a clenched jaw for a second longer before he gave in to the tugs on his denim jacket, following Grace towards the front door.

"Hell yeah, Angel," Darcy's cocky voice came from behind them, causing the brunette to turn on her spot.

She was wearing a smug smile on her painted lips, one of the shortest skirts that Angeline had ever seen on her legs and a lacy crop top on her top half. Darcy had spiced up her outfit with more chains and some jewellery, looking like every father's worst nightmare.

"You put those assholes in their place." Darcy watched where they left before averting her eyes to the Lewis girl and leaning to speak against her ear. "Kinda turned me on."

Angeline was left breathless by Darcy's straightforwardness. Paige was talking to Ciara a few feet away, completely oblivious to how close Angeline and Darcy were standing. The brunette girl swallowed thickly, not used to this kind of attention from girls.

She'd had a boyfriend before Levi, but those two were the only people she'd ever done stuff with. Unless making out with Ciara that one time counted, or the stranger she'd kissed at the beach for a dare once.

"Yeah?" Angeline replied breathlessly, her eyes flickering from Darcy's green ones to her full lips.

All she wanted to do was smash her lips against hers and dance with her to the Arctic Monkeys song playing loud throughout the house.

"Guys!" Paige squealed. "We have to dance to this."

What the Hell by Avril Lavigne blasted loudly and Angeline was being tugged to the dance floor. Ciara handed everyone red solo cups filled with fruity cider and the four began to sing the lyrics loudly, Angeline's cloudy mind drifting completely away from the moment she had just shared with Darcy.

Just like every party, the girls stood in the very centre of the floor, batting off boys that came too close and enjoying each other's presence. Darcy was on alcohol duty, topping their cups up every time they ran out.

Around midnight, Angeline had no idea what number she was on. All she knew was that her head felt heavy and her body was reacting to everything in slow motion. She laughed at the smallest things, zoning out for entire songs and snapping back to reality when Paige got excited over whatever song was playing next.

A small game of Never Have I Ever took place by the bar for about half an hour, led by the Queen Bee herself. About fifty people joined in, and it ended when a girl started to throw up over herself.

"Fuck this!" Paige huffed, rolling her eyes as she came back with tissues to clean everything up. "How did a fucking freshman end up here, anyway?"

Angeline just giggled as she watched Paige cover it up half heartedly. Flashing Lights by Kanye West started to play and Angeline felt the need to dance, looking around for a friend to join. She spotted Ciara by one of the couches, her tongue halfway down a girl's throat.

"Here."

Darcy handed her a red solo cup and Angeline gulped it down until there was none left. "You wanna dance?" She called over the music.

Darcy's arms wrapped around Angeline's neck and she was pulled close to her body. She peered up slightly into the green eyes, smiling a little as she copied Darcy's actions, the two of them dancing with each other— or more like against each other

As I recall, I know you love to show off

But I never thought that you would take it this far

What do I know?

"Fuck it," Darcy whispered under her breath, diving forwards and crashing her lips against Angeline's.

Angeline groaned into Darcy's mouth, tasting all of the bitter alcohol on her breath. The brunette loved it— she kissed Darcy deeper, her arms moving from around her neck to her waist.

Darcy didn't like Angeline taking the lead and her hands moved to grip the smaller girl's hips, tugging her forward so their bodies pressed against one another. Angeline gasped into the kiss, making the blonde pull away and start to kiss down her jaw.

Angeline kept her close as Darcy left sloppy kisses against her neck, sucking on the spot below her ear that had the brown-eyed girl seeing stars. She moaned quietly, her hands moving back and tugging a little at Darcy's curls.

"You're so fucking hot," Darcy pressed kisses all the way down to Angeline's exposed collarbones, making the brunette pull her back up.

"Not here," she whispered.

Darcy's green eyes lit up in excitement as if she couldn't quite believe what Angeline had said. Angeline clasped the teenage girl's hand and they headed for the staircase, moving up whilst small giggles escaped the brunette's lips. She staggered down the hall, blurry vision looking for one of the many guest rooms in Paige's home.

She found an empty one and they entered. Angeline was pushed up against the door as soon as she shut it, her breath hitching when she felt Darcy's breath back on her neck. It hit the hickies that she had made before, making Angeline whine. She wished she could turn around to see Darcy's face, but the girl had a good grip on her.

"Dar- Darcy," Angeline whimpered. "Please."

"Oh, come on, Angel," Darcy chuckled darkly from behind her. "Use your words. Cat hasn't got your tongue now, does it?"

"N-No," she mumbled, closing her eyes when she felt her lips reattach to her neck. "Please, Darcy. Let- let me touch you."

Darcy grinned widely as she pulled back, her grip softening so that Angeline could turn back around. As soon as she did, the brunette was kissing Darcy hard on the lips, her tongue slipping into her mouth. She pushed Darcy towards the bed, the blonde falling down as soon as the back of her knees hit the mattress.

Angeline crawled on top of her, legs either side of Darcy's torso as she took her time kissing down Darcy's pale skin, taking advantage of finally having control. Darcy made sure to remind Angeline who was really in charge, her hands holding on Angeline's hips and squeezing every time she did something particularly good.

The blonde moved her hands to the bottom of Angeline's black dress and she peeled it up and past her head, and smoothed her hands up and down Angeline's curves. The heat on Angeline's skin started to feel more intense, her head even heavier. When she blinked, everything was a blur, and then she blinked again and everything was fine.

"Are you okay?" Darcy's voice sounded underwater.

"Mhm," Angeline was lying to herself as well as Darcy.

She rolled off of Darcy and laid beside her on the queen-size bed, pursing her lips together and humming to herself, her eyes closing.

"Really tired," she slurred.

Angeline wasn't sure why this had come on so quickly, but the next time she blinked she could see Darcy standing up a few feet away, going through something. She tried to prop herself up onto her elbows, but her body felt too heavy.

"Darcy, what- what's going on?" She asked. "What are you..."

"Shh," Darcy glanced up from whatever was in her hands. "You've drunk too much, Angel. Sleep for a bit."

Angeline did as she was told, or rather she had no choice, her body shutting down as she fell into a deep state of unconsciousness.

...

Angeline's legs felt weak as she searched the dance floor for one of her friends. She found Ciara next to the beer pong table, watching a couple of guys from Angeline's biology class play against each other. The bubblegum-haired girl smirked as soon as her dark eyes landed on the teenage girl and she grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the small crowd.

"How was it? You guys were up there for a long time."

"Hmm?" Angeline hummed, swaying slightly.

"Your first time with a girl, dumbass," Ciara snickered.

"Oh," Angeline giggled. "I can't really remember... just that she's a really good kisser."

Ciara raised her brows with a small grin. "That good, huh?"

The brunette shrugged, assuming that must be it. When she said she couldn't remember, she was being honest. She must have been drunk off her ass because when she woke up Darcy was beside her on the bed, just waking up as well. Darcy said she couldn't remember much either, but they'd fallen asleep after... doing it.

"Wha- What time is it, Ci?"

Her friend pulled out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and checked. "Half two."

Angeline frowned. "Half to what?"

"No, idiot. Half past two in the morning," Ciara scolded her slightly with a roll of the eyes.

"Oh, shit!" Angeline giggled. "I'm a lil late home."

Paige was suddenly rushing over, bold lips turning up into a smile as she grabbed Angeline and led her over to where the DJ was. Angeline's ears felt like they were going to burst from how loud the music was as they got close to the speakers and she watched the blonde beauty say something in the DJ's ears before he was handing her the microphone and turning the music down.

"Hi, guys!" Paige greeted, earning cheers from people in the house. "Thanks so much for coming out tonight for Angeline's eighteenth birthday. I have great news, we got cake! If you guys on the dancefloor could part for Josh then that would be great."

Angeline smiled a little when people did as the queen bee told them to, Josh, a boy Paige knew, came through with a huge cake and eighteen candles on top. People were singing happy birthday to her but she didn't even feel uncomfortable, way too buzzed on alcohol to even think about what she should do with her hands.

The cake was baby pink and said 'happy birthday angel!' in hot pink icing, a shit ton of glitter tossed onto it. It looked like something Angeline would have reblogged on Tumblr when she was thirteen, and she adored it. Once everybody had finished singing, she blew out the candles and laughed at the cheers she received.

"Thanks, guys!" Angeline called before the music returned and people went back to whatever they were doing. "Paige, I kinda have a curfew tonight--"

Paige looked appalled. "Oh my God, girl! It's your eighteenth birthday party, nobody has a curfew on their birthday. You're sleeping here tonight."

"Okay," Angeline agreed without much thought, completely forgetting all about Mitch who was probably having a heart attack right now.

...

Around four, Angeline sat in a circle with her friends and some others from Fair Hill High outside on the grass, a fire going on in the middle of them. A can of cider was in her hand as she glanced towards the house, watching as people still had the time of their lives, music thumping and teenagers dancing.

A game of Suck and Blow was going on, and so far Paige had made out with James from Chemistry and Ciara had kissed another guy, much to her dismay. The card had been ripped a little every time it had been dropped, so by now it was nearly in half, making it harder to pass around the circle with their lips.

When it got to Darcy, who was sitting next to Angeline, the girl took it from the boy on the other side and was about to press it to Angeline's lips when she accidentally dropped the card. A chorus of 'oohs' came from the teenagers all around them, some who weren't even participating in the game and just watching.

Angeline reached behind Darcy's head and grabbed the back of her neck, tugging her close so that their lips smashed together. She ignored the whoops and cheers from a bunch of teenage boys, wondering if they'd have the same energy if two boys kissed and knowing the answer.

Darcy held Angeline's jaw, the kiss ending about ten seconds later when Paige laughed, "Okay, we get it!"

Angeline pulled away and the two girls giggled at each other, Darcy's thumb moving from Angeline's jaw to swipe at the brunette's lips which were shiny and swollen. Before she could say anything, a guy called Jordan was coming over, bringing the stench of weed with him.

"Yo, Angel," he called, jerking his thumb back towards the house. "Dude inside is looking for you. Said his name is Mitch."

"Oh, fuck." The teenage girl stood up and turned to face the circle who were all looking at her expectantly. "Thanks all for the great time tonight. If you don't see me on Monday it's cos I was due home at three. Peace out."

She did a salute with her fingers, earning laughs from the school mates. Paige got up and gave her a hug and Ciara went after, squeezing Angeline tighter.

"I have a bad feeling," Ciara mumbled against her.

Angeline frowned as she pulled away. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, it's probably the weed I smoked earlier," she laughed, making Angeline giggle and shake her head back.

"You scared me, idiot," Angeline shoved Ciara's shoulder.

"Sorry," the bubblegum-haired girl grinned. "See ya Monday."

Angeline repeated her words before she smiled in the direction of Darcy and started to head towards the house. As soon as she was back inside it felt like the temperature had gone up by ten degrees and the smell of alcohol was intense. She wandered to the front door, seeing Mitch stood by himself next to it, hazel eyes scanning the crowds.

When they landed on her he sighed in relief, moving to grab her wrist. "I said three," Mitch glared.

"I know, I know," Angeline winced. "I'm sorry, I- I lost track of time."

"You're wasted," Mitch sighed, running a large palm down his face as he pulled her outside and towards the car parked at the curb. "Your father's not going to be happy in the morning. You didn't tell me you were supposed to be having dinner with your family last night."

"Didn't want to go," Angeline said as he peeled open the passenger side door.

Mitch's hands were helping her into her seat and she fiddled with the seatbelt for too long, annoying him. He leaned across her and plugged it in himself before he slammed the door and went around to his side, climbing in.

"Did you have fun?" Mitch sighed after a few minutes.

Angeline nodded tiredly, head leaning against the glass. "Oh it was fun alright."

Mitch squirmed a little at what she was insinuating, his hazel eyes flickering off the road momentarily and over to the girl. Angeline's eyes were closed as she leant against the door and she'd curled her legs up onto the seat, nearly dozing off right there.

"Hey," he tapped her bare leg. "Legs down. If we got into-"

"A car accident, my legs would break, I know," Angeline sighed before she added, "but that, Mr Rapp, is a risk I am willing to take."

Mitch scoffed and shook his head in amusement. The smile dropped from his face when he glanced over, the streetlight lighting Angeline's skin up and illuminating some hickies on her neck. Any amusement he had felt simmered down and he sighed through his nose, thankful that the empty roads meant they'd get home quicker.

"My dad's gonna be so mad," Angeline whispered as they pulled up to the road the Lewis household was situated down.

Mitch looked at her and found her with her head in her hands. "He went to bed. As long as you nurse that hangover properly in the morning you can lie about where you were."

"No," Angeline whimpered and she felt tears burn in her eyes. "He forgot my birthday a-and now he's gonna hit me or something."

Sober Angeline would never open up like this-- she used humour to mask her pain and she never brought up things that she couldn't mention without tearing up. Especially not to somebody like Mitch, who wasn't Paige or Ciara. The alcohol was making her brain go foggy and she didn't even realise she was crying, she was just zoning in and out of her own head in the seat, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Hey," Mitch said softly. "I won't let him touch you, okay?"

"Okay," Angeline sniffed as they pulled into the driveway.

However, Mr Lewis wasn't asleep like Mitch had thought-- he was standing at the door and he looked pissed.


	12. Chapter 12

"Get your arse out of that room right now, Angeline!"

The brunette's little black dress was a struggle to get off of her body. She stumbled around a bit and nearly knocked some books from a shelf, her stomach turning in a painful way that made her wish she had never drunk so much. The insults that were being hurtled at her by her own flesh and blood were nothing compared to some of the stuff she had heard before, so Angeline continued to ignore him.

"Leave me alone," Angeline cried back once she had finally gotten the tight material off.

It felt like she could finally breathe, her soft skin coated in a thin layer of sweat as she breathed heavily. Her head made the room feel like it was spinning, but she attempted to ignore it, heading for a random black shirt on her floor and pulling it on.

"You're an alcoholic!" The English man yelled back, making her roll her eyes. "You're always turning up at this house pissed, and I'm getting fucking sick of it. I want-- I want you drug-tested!"

Angeline moved towards the bathroom and splashed some cold water in her face, trying to stop the sickening sensation occurring throughout her body. Her brown eyes latched on dark marks on her neck and she frowned, leaning closer towards the mirror. Her fingers moved up to touch the hickeys which felt a little sore.

Sudden memories of Darcy being beneath her came back. She nearly blushed as she remembered climbing on top of the blonde teenager, recalling everything up until the point where a wave of dizziness had crashed into her.

Angeline's heart stopped and she backed away from the mirror, rushing towards her bed. She grabbed her bag and emptied everything onto the duvet, everything that had been in there at the start of the night tumbling out. Her mobile phone, her lip gloss, travel-size perfume, gum... It was all there.

But Angeline swore she remembered Darcy looking through her bag when she told her to go to sleep.

Her heartbeat quickened, her hand reaching to hold it as panic settled in her stomach. Darcy had been topping her drink up all night and she didn't remember anything that happened after that point. Ciara had also said that she had been upstairs with Darcy for a long time... but Angeline remembered nothing once Darcy had told her to relax.

It quickly became present in Angeline's mind what had happened-- she'd been drugged. She felt sick.

Quick questions like who the hell really was Darcy Reed and why did she drug Angeline filled her mind. The spinning of her head intensified and she nearly cried out loud when she realised what was happening. She dropped her bag and ran to her ensuite bathroom, dropping down in front of the toilet and gagging loudly.

She then unwillingly released the contents inside her stomach, everything she had drunk that night coming back up. It burned her throat and made her feel faint like she was going to pass out any second. It probably didn't help that she was on the verge of a panic attack, considering she just found out one of her 'friends' had drugged her and one of her biggest fears was being sick.

"Dad," Angeline called as she sobbed. "Dad, help me."

She faintly heard her door start to get bashed, a body slamming against it. The grunts didn't belong to her father but Mitch, and Angeline would have gotten up and simply unlocked it if she wasn't so scared that she was glued to her spot on the tiled floor. She heard a loud crack and Mitch's heavy breaths before Mr Lewis barged inside, moving to stand inside the doorway of the bathroom.

"P-Please, dad," she sniffled. "I'm gonna be sick again."

Maybe it was stupid, but in her drunken and vulnerable state, she wanted her dad's help. It had always been her mother to help her when she was a child, holding back her hair and speaking soothing words as she threw up. Mr Lewis just stood there, shaking his head as his daughter's sobs grew louder and she shook so hard that anybody would think she was dying.

"Angeline, why are you crying?"

"I- I'm scared," Angeline admitted. "P-Please, dad. I don't- I don't wanna be sick again. I don't want to- I don't want to- I don't--"

"Get a grip, okay?" Mr Lewis grabbed a hairband off of the counter and passed it to her. "Tie your hair up before you get it in the toilet. See, these are the consequences for your actions. If you're going to get drunk, you should expect things like this to happen. And next time, don't call for help-- you made it sound like you were dying for God's sake. Rapp had to break the door down for nothing."

Angeline's sniffles calmed down as he ridiculed her and made her feel small. Mr Lewis sent her a disappointed look and said something about talking in the morning before he left the room. Vomit crept back up her throat and Angeline gasped before she was sick again in the toilet.

Once she'd finished she collapsed against the bathtub, her head in her hands and her breaths heavy and uneven as tears strolled silently down her red cheeks. Footsteps caused her to look up and she found Mitch stood there, a small frown on his stern face.

He kneeled down next to her shaking from and gently took the hairband from her hands. His large palm steered her shoulders so she faced away from him and Mitch glided his fingers through her hair, scraping the thick locks back and doing the best he could to tie it into a loose ponytail. It worked, although it looked like it was going to fall out any minute.

"Do you feel like you're going to vomit again?" Mitch asked calmly.

"I- I don't know," she admitted shakily.

"Okay." Mitch leaned forward and flushed the chain. "What do you normally do when you're throwing up?"

"My mum used to help me," Angeline sniffled, burying her face in her knees. "I don't know. I block it out after it happens most of the time. I just- just remember these intense panic attacks and- and thinking I was dying."

The frown never left Mitch's face but he nodded along with everything she was saying. Her words were unintentionally slurred and slow. Clearly she hadn't sobered up a whole lot and she wasn't talking as much as she normally did either.

"Can you get my water bottle from my bedside table?" She whispered.

Mitch nodded again and stood, moving into her bedroom and returning a second later with a hydro flask. He unscrewed the lid for her and passed it over, watching as she took the tiniest sips possible. Angeline was scared if she drank too much water it would just come back up again-- that was one of the worst feelings ever.

"You think you're ready to get up now?" Mitch asked after a few minutes. "I think you're done being sick now."

Angeline nodded and stuck her hands up. The shaggy-haired man looked slightly surprised by grasped her small hands anyway, helping her off of the floor. Her legs shook beneath her and her stomach muscles were painfully contracting, trying to throw up more liquid that just wasn't there anymore. Mitch wrapped an arm around her when he realised how badly she was shaking and helped her to the sink, handing her the only toothbrush on the side.

He applied the toothpaste for her and handed it back, watching as she gripped the sink with one hand and brushed with the other. Her cheeks were red and she kept sniffling, but the more she looked at herself in the mirror, the more she seemed to come down to earth.

Once she spat the paste out and rinsed her mouth, Mitch guided her to her bed and pulled the covers over her body. He was about to leave when she reached out, grasping his wrist.

"Mitch," she whispered worriedly.

"Yeah?"

"Y-You know Darcy?"

"Emo one?"

"I- I think she tried going through my stuff tonight," she said. "A-And I think she- she drugged me."

Mitch's hazel eyes widened. For the first time since Angeline had met him, he looked genuinely concerned. The emotion flashed across his face and passed as quickly as it came. He sat down on the edge of her bed, being careful not to crush her leg as he looked down at her.

"Drugged you?" He repeated.

Angeline swallowed thickly and nodded. "Y-Yeah," she whispered. "In my drink, I think."

"Is that what these are?" Mitch's finger pointed towards her neck.

"I-" She started to blush, becoming flustered under the stare of the slightly older man. "I mean, I guess-- but that part I was conscious of. I consented."

"You can't consent when you're this wasted, Angeline," Mitch scowled. "Was she drunk?"

"I don't know," the brunette admitted. "B-But she took me upstairs and we were just kissing a-and I started to feel really dizzy, so she told me to sleep. But before I fell asleep, I swear I saw her going through my bag, and when I woke up she was just laying next to me."

"What did she say?" Mitch demanded. "When you woke up?"

She wet her dry lips with her tongue. "Um, she just asked if I enjoyed it... That we both fell asleep after, but I don't remember doing anything but kissing."

Mitch said nothing else but stood, jaw clenched. He looked on the other side of the bed and saw a bunch of items sprawled out next to a Chanel bag. He reached out and grabbed her phone, trying not to touch it too much.

"I can check for fingerprints... See if she went through your phone," Mitch said. "What did you say her full name was, again?"

"Darcy Reed."

...

Angeline woke up around one in the afternoon that Saturday, feeling like complete and utter shit. Everything came flooding back when she realised her phone wasn't sat on her bedside table charging and her bedroom door wasn't even on its hinges. It was propped up against the wall, allowing anybody walking past to see right inside. She cringed at the thought and forced herself out of the bed.

Her usual morning routine took a little longer than normal, taking her time in the shower to process everything that had happened at her party last night. It felt so insane, like nothing like that could have ever happened to her. She wanted to call Darcy up and confront her right there and then, but Mitch still had her phone.

The fact that they had made out again during their game of Suck and Blow just made her feel even more sick. Darcy was probably laughing inside over the fact that she thought she had managed to pull the curtains over Angeline's eyes.

Angeline pulled on some biker shorts and a large tee and headed for the door... or rather doorway, considering there was nothing there. She searched the house high and low for Mitch, not finding him even when she knocked on his bedroom door. The gardener had no idea, neither did Peggy, or the cleaner.

She headed for the one room she hadn't checked yet-- the meeting room. It was strictly off bounds to her and anybody that wasn't involved with her father's business. Angeline made no plans on breaking the rules until when she knocked, the door creaked open all by itself. She stood there stunned for a second, wondering why the hell it wasn't just unlocked but open.

Hesitantly, the brunette pushed open the door and peered inside, finding that the room was empty. Angeline wasn't sure what she would find inside, but the huge room wasn't far off to what she had imagined it. The windows were all tinted and there was a long table for business meetings.

A door that Angeline didn't know existed was in the corner, reading 'MR LEWIS' OFFICE'. She grew nervous but her curiosity got the best of her and she stepped into the pristine room, heading for her dad's office. When that door opened without a key, Angeline was left even more stunned.

The room was pretty huge, a desk in the centre and filing cabinets all around. All of his achievements were plastered on the white walls and there were a couple of expensive plants potted around, as well as a golden nametag on the desk. Angeline wandered over, picking up some of the pieces of paper that were lying about.

HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL: FOR MR LEWIS ONLY.

The teenage girl saw no harm in taking a peak, unknowing that what she read inside would change the rest of her life forever. Once she'd read the first page, Angeline was hooked; heart pounding out of her chest as she became desperate for more and more answers.

Thousands and thousands of words detailing three bombs that were being built by Lewis Enterprise, ready to be set off in London, New York City, and Paris-- three of the most influential cities in the world. They'd kill potentially thousands, and of course NewsFlash would be the first to update the world, having information no other company had.

By what Angeline was reading with shaky hands and teary eyes, Lewis Enterprise planned on building a software that would be released within a week after the attacks, one that could detect potential threats and could be bought by the government for possibly billions. There was so much that Angeline didn't understand-- starting with the fact that her father and brother were about to purposefully murder innocent people for their own profit.

"Oh my God." She pressed her hand to her mouth as she flipped more pages over.

It landed on one that had a bunch of numbers and letters on. They were codes to the bombs, Angeline quickly realised. She began to repeat the codes in her head, mumbling them out loud to try and memorise what she would tell the FBI when she called them on her father's ass.

"Now, now, Angeline," Renolds muttered lowly. "Why don't you be a good girl and put your hands in the air? Nobody has to get hurt that way."

Angeline's chest was heaving with fear. "F-Fuck off!" She stammered, backing up as he got closer. "If you take one step closer then these I'll tell everyone I know what I just saw."

Renolds paused in his tracks. Before he could do anything, Angeline grabbed the chair from beside her and threw it as hard as she could, releasing a small scream when he grabbed it. She was half way around the desk when he grabbed her by the arms, attempting to restrain her.

"Stop trying!" He kept yelling.

Angeline grunted and drove her foot back into his knee as hard as she possibly could. There was a sickening crack and Renolds let go for a split second. She managed to lean forward and grab a stapler off of the desk. As his arms clamped back around her, Angeline pressed it to his skin and started to hold down for as hard and long as she could. Everytime one impaled him he'd cry out a little.

Eventually, the pain became too much and the security guard released her. Angeline scrambled away as quickly as she possibly could, nearly tripping over her own feet as she darted out of the meeting room. She ran into her bedroom, about to slam and lock the door when she remembered that it had been taken down.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she cursed and raced into her bathroom, hearing Renolds footsteps grow only louder.

She locked the door behind her and rushed to look through her cupboards, trying to find anything that might save her. All she could find was a pair of nail scissors, but she guessed that she could work with them. Running into the bathtub, she pulled the shower curtain around and waited got her fate to arrive.

Her teeth chattered from fear as she waited anxiously for Renolds to break the door down. It was only a matter of time with his large frame bashing against it every five seconds. Eventually, she heard the crack and the pop and it was coming down.

Her heart rate increased dramatically and she swallowed, one hand over her mouth to control her heavy breathing. As he approached the bathtub, Angeline waited for his shadow to grow before she struck out, diving the scissors right through the material and into Renolds' stomach. She'd seen it in the second IT film one time, but she didn't think it would actually work.

"You little bitch!" She heard him howl.

Angeline took the time to dart out of the other end, pacing around him and back out of her bathroom and bedroom. Unfortunately, it only gave her about a ten second head start before he was back down the stairs. She heard a gunshot go off and Angeline screamed, tripping down the last couple of steps. She wondered if she had been shot and not felt it due to the adrenaline, but she couldn't feel anything.

She tried to crawl back onto her feet but the sudden fear had slowed her down, making it a chore to simply move a muscle. All of her adrenaline was gone, replaced with anxiety as hands yanked her off of the floor and she felt the barrel of a gun press against her temple.

"Try anything and it goes straight through your brain," he hissed before he knocked her around the head with it, sending the teenage girl straight out like a light.


	13. Chapter 13

Angeline's head burned, along with her wrists and her ankles. A warm liquid was slowly gliding down the side of her head, the crimson colour staining her hair and matting it to her cheek slightly. She moved to touch the injury, grunting when she realised that her hands were tied to the chair she was sat in.

Her neck hurt from hanging back whilst she had been unconscious, a painful creak echoing in her ears when she raised it to look around the room. She was in the meeting room and the door was open, revealing all the way down the empty hall. The house was deadly silent until she heard footsteps.

The heavy boots coming up the staircase could have belonged to anyone-- her father, Elliot, Renolds, Winston, or Mitch. Angeline prayed it was the youngest of them all, however, when the head of security came into view, she realised she wasn't lucky enough to have Mitch saving her anytime soon.

"You're awake," Renolds said as he entered the room.

"Yeah, no fucking shit," Angeline scoffed, glaring up at him. "Did you really have to hit me over the head?"

"You stabbed me in the stomach with a pair of scissors, shot eight staplers into my left arm and fractured my kneecap," Renolds deadpanned, scowling when he saw the faint proud smile that crossed the teenage girl's lips.

"Okay, but head injuries are way more life-threatening," Angeline shrugged. "And I did just find out that my family are fucking terrorists!"

Renolds huffed. "Your father is on his way home right now and trust me, if you think you've seen him mad, then this is a whole other level of furious."

Fear pricked in the teenage girl, the emotion flashing across her face. "What's he gonna do?"

"Let's just say nobody can know about his plans," Renolds smirked. "And you, Angeline, are just about the biggest blabbermouth he knows."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

She flung her head back and groaned loudly, the noise causing her sensitive head to ache even more. Her dainty fingers were trying to fiddle with the rope wrapped around her wrists behind the chair, except it was no use. Angeline could barely bend her wrist high enough to skim the rough material and she knew even if she could reach it, there was no way she'd be able to get out of it. Angeline silently shifted her ankles around, seeing if she could loosen the ropes there. It was no use-- Renolds clearly knew what he was doing when he tied the knots up.

For a few minutes, Renolds was on the device that all security members had, typing away on it. He was most likely updating Mr Lewis that Angeline had woken up, which was not good. She assumed he was on his way, but if he wasn't and now he knew she was conscious, he might be.

"Fuck!" Renolds suddenly hissed as he kept hitting a button.

Angeline craned her neck, managing to see just about what he was doing. On the tablet, there was security footage of the front gate that was open, a figure marching up the driveway. She couldn't quite decide who it was, but Angeline assumed he had somehow granted himself access, despite Renolds pressing the button to keep the gates closed.

"Who is it?" She asked, not expecting an answer.

The front door slamming open downstairs made the both of them jump and Renolds quickly whipped the pistol out from around his waist, making Angeline's brown eyes widen. She kept silent, watching as he headed out of the meeting room and down the stairs.

"Fuck," she whispered, scrambling even harder to get the ropes to give way.

Everything was silent apart from her own heavy breathing and the scraping of the chair when a gunshot went off downstairs. Angeline whimpered as several more shots followed. She could hear Renolds yelling out in pain, followed by one more shot and then silence.

Her first suspicion was that it was the man that had turned up to the house before. Mitch had said that he was her father's work competition, and that especially terrified her now that she knew what kind of work her dad was doing. Maybe she was better off being killed by her dad than the stranger, at least her dad would probably just slide her a few pills rather than a bullet to the head.

When the footsteps started to pace up the stairs, Angeline started to say goodbye to everybody she loved in her head. It was a surprisingly short list-- just Ciara, Paige, and her mother. She gave a small goodbye to Mitch too, mentally cursing that she never got to at least kiss him before she died.

Suddenly, the door to the meeting room burst open and Angeline screamed, flinching back with her eyes scrunched closed.

"Don't shoot, I'm pregnant!" She blurted.

When nothing came, Angeline hesitantly opened her eyes and was more than relieved to see that it was Mitch stood there. He lowered the gun in his hand and stared at her with confusion written across his face, lowering to untie her ankles anyway.

"I- Oh my God, you have no idea how glad I am you're here," Angeline admitted, her voice thick with emotion as she watched him grab a knife from around his hip.

"I have some idea," Mitch muttered, cutting at the ropes as quick as he could. "We need to get out of here in less than twelve minutes. Once you're out of this, you go to your room, you grab everything you can in a duffel bag, and that does not mean your laptop or whatever else technology you might have. Okay?"

Angeline was shaking from fear but forced herself to nod anyway. "O-Okay."

There were so many questions swarming her inside her head. She assumed that Mitch obviously wasn't working with her father at this point, but did he know what they were doing this entire time? Was he some sort of spy that was trying to stop them?

When he finally got her wrists free, his large palm squeezed on her shoulder and Angeline stood up quickly, regretting it when her head felt slightly dizzy. She ignored the feeling and staggered out of the room and down the hall, all the way to her bedroom.

The first thing she did was fling open her closet and grab a duffel bag, yanking a handful of clothes down off their hooks without even checking. She threw in a couple of bras and some underwear and grabbed the photo frame by the side of her bed that had a picture of herself and Ciara inside it.

She got the impression from Mitch's urgency that she would not be coming back here anytime soon. Angeline's heart was racing and she was all too aware of the minutes slipping away as she packed away a few other necessities before Mitch barged into the room.

"We have to go. Now," he commanded, the pistol still raised in his hand.

Angeline swallowed back her fear and followed after him, her grip on the duffel bag tight. Mitch lead them all the way down to the foyer and the brunette froze in her tracks at the sight of blood splattered across the pristine walls. Slumped in the corner was the dead body of Renolds, a bullet hole right in the centre of his head.

"Oh my God!" Angeline cried, her knees nearly buckling beneath her.

"Hey!" Mitch yelled, grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the front door. "Hey, don't look at that shit, okay? And don't stop like that again."

His voice was underwater in her head and Angeline couldn't quite decide whether it was because she was literally on the verge of a panic attack or because she had been hit around the head. Perhaps it was a mixture of the two, but right now it didn't matter. She just had to listen to what Mitch was saying and follow his quick steps to the car.

It wasn't a car that Angeline recognised and it definitely didn't belong to her father. It was black and the windows were tinted so dark she couldn't see inside at all. Mitch yanked the bag from her hands and tossed it into the trunk before climbing into the driver's side. Angeline was on the passenger side, putting on her seatbelt with trembling hands.

"Wha- What's going on?" Angeline whispered shakily as he started to peel out of the driveway and through the open gates.

She glanced back behind her at the house that she had been living in for three or four years now. It was so huge and grand, but it had never really felt like a home to her. Except now, as she drove away with no intentions of ever coming back, she wished things were how they were a week ago-- when she was oblivious to her father's evil plans.

"I can explain later," Mitch said, hazel eyes focused on the road. "Let me drive."

Angeline's heart was thumping unsteadily and she raised her hand to rest on her chest, willing it to calm down. She closed her eyes and felt as the hot tears escaped past her shut lids, trailing down her cheeks and neck.

A wave of sudden anger washed over her. Her life had just been flipped upside down and Mitch knew it was going to happen, but now he wasn't willing to answer her questions. Her father and her brother were terrorists, her 'friend' had drugged her, Mitch had just murdered somebody, she'd just nearly been shot and hit around the head with a gun...

It was weird to think yesterday she was playing dodgeball in the gym, her biggest concern being how she was going to wipe the cocky smirk off of Grace's smug face.

"I want to know now," Angeline swallowed, wiping at her tears roughly. "Wh- What the hell was those letters in my dad's office? Were they real?"

Mitch practically growled under his breath as they made it onto the highway. It was obvious he was a little stressed, his knuckles white on the steering wheel and his jaw clenched, nose slightly scrunched as he blew air out of it.

"Angeline, not now," Mitch demanded.

"Mitch--"

"I said not now, Angeline!" He suddenly yelled, causing the girl to flinch.

She visibly sagged in her seat, her bottom lip trembling as she folded her arms and gulped. With her pounding head and her broken heart, Angeline leant against the window of the car and tried to drift off to sleep, accepting whatever fate Mitch was about to lead her into. 

... 

"Angeline."

Angeline hummed, eyes slowly flickering open as she woke up. It took her a few moments to realise that she was in the passenger seat of Mitch's car and remember what had happened. She blinked as she sat up, clicking her neck in the process. Mitch was staring at her from the driver's seat and she realised they were parked in a parking lot.

"We're stopping for five. I need to take a look at your head," Mitch spoke, pressing the button of her seat belt so it came undone and leaving.

Angeline stayed in her spot for a second, staring at where he had just been as she tried to process her jumbled thoughts. Deciding against pissing Mitch off more than she did earlier, Angeline pulled the belt from around her and climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind her.

Only then did she realise that night had fallen, so she must have been asleep for a good few hours. She was surprised that she was able to sleep at all after seeing the hole through Renolds head and finding out the truth about her family. The night air was cool on her hot skin, brushing through her long dark hair and making her feel a little better.

"Wait by the door, I'll get the key to the restroom," Mitch muttered.

Angeline did as she was told, wondering why she had to stay outside until she realised she must look like a mess. When she woke up tied to the chair she could feel the blood trickling down her face so she assumed that it must have dried to her skin. She played with the hem of her shirt, seeing a spot of blood on the bottom of it-- whether it was hers or Renolds, she did not know.

"Got it," Mitch said, lifting the key up to her as he walked around the side of the gas station.

Once he unlocked the door, Angeline entered first and grimaced at the state of the restroom. She always avoided public bathrooms if possible, even the ones at school, and this was why. It looked like nobody had cleaned it in a month, but at least the light worked when Mitch flicked it on.

"Sit on the counter top," he said, grabbing something out of the duffel bag that she only just realised had been flung over his shoulder.

Angeline's face scrunched up. "That's gross--"

"Okay, princess, I get that this is kind of inconvenient for you, but it's the best I can do right now, okay?" Mitch scowled. "I didn't plan for you to go snooping through things. Remember what I told you?"

The brunette fell silent at his words.

"I told you to stay out of what you don't understand, but you went looking anyway," Mitch snapped. "And look at where it lands us. I had to shoot that bastard Renolds because--"

"I did not tell you to murder Renolds," Angeline cut him off before he could finish his sentence, her eyes burning with hot tears. "Do not finish that sentence, Mitch-- if that's even your real name."

Mitch clenched his jaw and stared her directly in the eye. It looked like he was debating what to say next and he just settled on shaking his head.

"Just sit on the counter, Angeline," he spoke much calmer than before. "Please, just do what I say."

The brunette hesitated before releasing an exaggerated sigh. She turned and grabbed a hold of the counter, pulling herself up so that she was sat in between the two sinks. At least Mitch had made her pack clothes so she could change when she got out if she needed.

Being called a princess had really rubbed her the wrong way, a small frown on her face as she folded her arms across her chest, watching Mitch start to pull out bandaids and rubbing alcohol. Her father always told her that she was a dramatic crybaby, and Mitch's words had mirrored it eerily.

Once he had some of the rubbing alcohol on a cotton pad, Mitch moved to stand in between Angeline's legs. She probably would have blushed at the action if she wasn't slightly annoyed with the way he had been brushing her off for the past few hours. She nearly wanted to push him away and just do it herself.

"This is gonna hurt a little bit, okay?" Mitch mumbled quietly, hazel eyes locking with hers as if to ask for consent to touch her.

Angeline gave a small nod and with that, he pressed the cotton pad to the cut on the side of her forehead. Her eyes snapped shut and she inhaled sharply, one of her hands snapping out to grab his shoulder. Mitch barely reacted as she squeezed it, each squeeze growing harder with each swipe of the cotton on her skin.

"Okay, it's over now," he said, dumping the cotton pad beside them.

Angeline looked down and realised that it was soaked in blood, her stomach feeling slightly queasy at the sight. She released Mitch's shoulder and placed her dainty hands in her lap, watching as he peeled a plaster out that matched her skin tone. He adjusted it so that it sat above the wound, pressing down.

"I don't think it's deep enough for stitches," Mitch said, wiping at the rest of her skin with more water and cotton wall, getting rid of all of the dried blood caking her face. "You're not talking to me," he realised.

Angeline didn't know how to reply. She blinked as she watched him finally grab all of the rubbish and toss it into the bin beneath the sinks. Her teeth chewed down on her bottom lip.

"Fine by me," Mitch spoke somewhat bitterly after he'd tossed the duffel bag over his shoulder. "Makes my job a whole lot easier if you don't."

As he left the restroom, Angeline knew he was silently demanding that she followed behind him. She wished she could take off in the direction and go straight back to Ciara, but she had a feeling that the only thing stopping her father from finding her and killing her for what she now knew was Mitch himself.

So it looked like it was going to be just the two of them for a while.


	14. Chapter 14

Angeline's silent treatment was becoming torturous for not only the young brunette but the man in the driver's seat himself. His body language gave nothing away, but secretly, Mitch wanted her to say something. Anything.

She hadn't said anything since the gas station, and they'd been back on the road for hours heading east. Mitch drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and glanced at all of the scenery around them to pass time, but deep down he knew he'd much rather be listening to Angeline rant about taxing the rich or something.

The teenage girl was bursting at the seams as well. She was fidgeting in the seat, her legs coming up and down, her arm against the window one moment and then fiddling with her t-shirt the next. Angeline tried to sleep, but her naps were short and only lasted half an hour at the max. The more she thought about it-- and boy did she have a lot of time to think-- the more she thought that maybe Mitch was right about her having ADHD or something.

It made a lot of sense. It justified why she was such a huge 'blabbermouth' and the way she always had to be doing something, even when she was growing up. That was why she knew how to do so many things, like ballet or karate or swimming. Angeline had been one of those kids that could never just sit down and watch the television-- she was either transforming cardboard boxes into cars and castles or begging to attend a new after school club to avoid feeling bored.

When Mitch pulled over at around nine in the morning to fill the car with gas, Angeline climbed out to stretch her legs. The sun was hot on her face and she moved to the bathrooms which were unlocked, taking her toothbrush and some face stuff with her. Perhaps it was pretty 'princess' of her to do this whilst on the run, but if she had the time and the products, Angeline would find a way. Nothing pissed her off like flaky skin.

The door burst open whilst Angeline had a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth and her facewash on her skin, making her pause. Mitch looked unsettled until his hazel eyes landed on her.

"You can't just walk away like that," the man muttered, entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. "You need to tell me if you're going to do something, right?"

Angeline stared at him for a few seconds before she finished up brushing her teeth and spat the paste out, rinsing her brush. She chucked water over her face to get rid of the face wash and then pumped some moisturiser into her hands.

"You could do with some of this," Angeline grumbled as she looked in the mirror, applying it to her dewy skin.

Mitch seemed genuinely offended, folding his arms across his chest as his nose scrunched up. At first, he couldn't believe that this was the first thing she would say to him after such a long time, and then he remembered who he was dealing with.

"I'm a man," Mitch stated. "I don't wear makeup."

"It's a good thing that it's not makeup then, huh?" Angeline rolled her brown eyes. "It's called moisturiser. Skincare doesn't have a gender-- neither does makeup, by the way."

The dark-haired man fell silent and he sighed gently. "Are you finished?" He asked, tone softer than she had heard it in ages.

Angeline nodded a little and he pushed open the door, holding it open so she could walk under his arm to leave. The brunette had changed into a Motel Rocks tea dress that reminded her of something from an 80s film, her black cycling shorts peeking out underneath it. She was glad that amongst the chaos she had coincidentally managed to pick this dress up-- it was loose, so it was good for the Californian weather she was suffering in.

She wondered if her friends were worried about her. It was a Monday at nine AM, so maybe they hadn't even noticed that she wasn't at school yet. Suddenly, she remembered who would be hanging out with Ciara and Paige and she nearly jumped out of her skin. A small gasp left her lips and she grabbed Mitch's arm, causing his head to snap to her quickly.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Darcy," Angeline breathed shakily, forgetting all about the conflict that the pair had been having for the past day or so. "Did you ever find out what she was actually up to?"

Mitch looked around them before he ushered her into the car. Angeline buckled up eagerly and waited until the man was in the driver's seat until she looked at him again.

"I ran the fingerprints through and it came up with a girl called 'Mila Williams'. I checked it out, turns out this Mila girl has a criminal record. Just some petty theft stuff. Williams is obviously a common surname, but I was able to work out that she's actually the daughter of your father's competition-- you remember the man that came to the house that time, right?"

Angeline was nodding along silently the whole time. "So... You think she came up with a fake name to try and get information out of me?" She asked quietly.

Mitch nodded. "That's the suspicion, yes."

"My dad's competition... Is he, like, wanting to set off more bombs or something?" She asked, making Mitch glance at her. "Sorry. Look, I don't really know a lot about anything, so all of this is kinda confusing to me. I don't know the behind the scenes of terrorist shit."

"Something like that," the shaggy-haired man sighed in response, running his large hand across his chin. "Joey Williams helped your dad come up with the idea-- they promised to split half. He helped him build the bombs, helped him relocate, finishing touches for the software... But your dad had a loophole in his contract. Completely cut Williams off last minute and now your dad's planning on making potentially billions on this new software, with nothing for Williams."

Angeline was quiet for a minute. "So this Williams guy wants to kill my dad?"

"Kill him and get the codes," Mitch replied. "Anyone that knows those codes are in danger. I was weeks away from getting to them before you kind of disrupted the mission."

"Mission," Angeline repeated. "Are you like... a spy or something?"

"Or something," he answered bluntly, not peeling his eyes from the road. "I'm a counter-terrorism operative for the CIA."

Her brown eyes widened and she released a small whistle. "Wow. So... You're sort of like an assassin for the government?"

"Counter-terrorism operative."

"But you kill terrorists for a living?"

Mitch's jaw clenched. "I guess. People like that... They deserve it. People like your father and your brother."

The teenage girl felt her heart drop at the reminder that her father and brother were people like that. They were terrorists, or at least they planned on becoming them. They were willing to destroy families and history and architecture and ruin lives to make the big bucks. Mitch was right, even if it was a little painful to admit it.

Suddenly, Mitch's words from before repeated in her brain. Anyone who knows those codes are in danger.

Angeline nearly jumped. "Mitch-- that thing you said before, about people knowing the codes-- I know the codes," she said, earning a wide-eyed glance from the man. "I saw them written on some pages in my dad's office, and Renolds knows I saw them. He probably told my dad before you... well, you know."

Mitch groaned. "Fuck, Angeline," he muttered, slamming his hand down on the steering wheel. "Fuck."

"I didn't know," the girl quickly disclaimed, hoping the truth hadn't set Mitch off into a yelling rage again.

"I know," he groaned, shaking his head.

It looked like he was trying to control his anger, or at least not take it out on her. His knuckles were white on the wheel and he shook his head slowly, breathing through his nose.

"What does that mean?" Angeline asked.

"Just let me deal with this, okay?" Mitch said.

"Does it mean Williams will be after me now?"

"Angeline," Mitch repeated lowly, and this time Angeline knew to keep her mouth zipped. 

...

Blood. The crimson liquid was everywhere. It coated the cream furniture and the white walls and trickled down the tan skin of the teenage girl who had walked in on something she definitely shouldn't have. Renolds was sprawled out in front of her, eyes wide and a bullet hole through the centre of his forehead. She held a hand to her mouth, trying not to be sick.

Lying either side of him were Elliot and her father. Mr Lewis looked the bloodiest of them all; his glasses broken on his face, his gelled hair a mess and blood coating it. Angeline stumbled backwards, her back pressing against somebody's front. When she turned, she came face to face with Mitch.

He had a cut across his eyebrow and an emotionless look on his face. He had a gun in his lowered hands, making her jump.

"You killed them," Angeline whispered fearfully.

"People like them deserve what they get," Mitch spoke before he lifted the gun and pressed the barrel right into her chest. "And you're just like them, Angeline."

Before Mitch could pull the trigger, the brunette suddenly gasped awake, her brown eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to calm herself down. The sun was setting in the distance and they were on a highway, Mitch not even looking over to her. She stared at him cautiously, her dream putting her on the edge slightly.

She was in a car with a murderer. Yeah, it was part of Mitch's job... but the conversation that they'd had had obviously taken a toll on her brain since she was dreaming about it. It made her realise that there was definitely a lot more to Mitch than she had previously wondered about, and it wasn't necessarily a good thing. Angeline wondered how the hell he had even gotten into this business.

"We should stop," Angeline mumbled after a few moments. "You've been driving for hours and hours. You must be exhausted."

Mitch looked like he was contemplating her suggestion for a few seconds. "We can stop at the next motel, but we're leaving again first thing in the morning. My superior called whilst you were asleep. We need to get you to a safehouse. I can't tell you where it is for your own safety, but it's gonna take a while."

Angeline's face scrunched up a little but she didn't say anything. The man next to her didn't say anything else and she found herself wanting to chuck herself out of the car, anything to escape the tension that seemed to have settled between the two of them. It was so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

"Mitch?" Angeline asked after a few minutes of driving down the desolate road that had little to no scenery.

"Yeah."

"If the CIA sent you to my house... do you know, like, everything about me?" She wondered out loud.

There was a small moment of silence. "I know a few things. I knew the school you went to, what you looked like, the hospital you were born in, your blood type... Shit like that. I knew who your friends were too."

Angeline's eyes were slightly wide as she whistled under her breath. "Ah, so not much then..." Her sarcastic tone caused Mitch to roll his eyes a little. "So you knew before we met that I had nothing to do with all of this... terrorist bullshit?"

"We weren't completely certain, but after a week or so I realised you definitely didn't know," Mitch replied. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Because I just found out that my entire family is a lie and you're, like, an actual assassin that's taking me to a fucking safehouse like I'm Demi Lovato in that one princess film," Angeline rambled. "So, sorry if this is all just a tad bit confusing to me... I've never found out that my family wants to bomb cities and that someone living under my roof for over a month kills people as part of his job before. I mean, how do you even get a job like--"

"Angeline," Mitch was angry again, which wasn't an odd occurrence on the little road trip that they were taking.

She managed to push all of his buttons one way or another, and he pushed hers. It's as if they were too different yet too similar to get along. Whether it was just his job bringing them together, neither could deny that being beside each other felt better than being alone, even to Mitch who was used to it. He liked Angeline... but God did she frustrate him like nobody else sometimes. Her talkative behaviour was amusing at times, and it was something he was going to have to get used to.

"No. No, Mitch. You can't just keep trying to shut me up by saying my name," Angeline rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. "I don't care if you go all big scary man on me and start yelling and throwing shit-- my life has literally just been turned upside fucking down and it would be nice to get a little bit of empathy and some answers that weren't vague as hell."

"I'm answering your questions now, aren't I?" Mitch snapped.

"Barely!" Angeline retorted with a small scoff. "How would you feel if something like this happened to your family?"

"A lot worse has happened to my family, so maybe shut your mouth and just sit there before you say something you'll regret," Mitch practically growled.

His words barely processed through her brain. Perhaps if she was thinking rationally, she would have pondered what could have happened to his family and why he was so defensive about it, yet Angeline was just feeling more and more offended as time passed. She'd never wanted to punch Mitch so badly in her life.

"What are you gonna do?" The brunette hissed. "I doubt you've ever found out your family were terrorists."

"No, they were just killed by terrorists," Mitch yelled and suddenly a heavy silence filled the car.

Their heavy breathing was all that could be heard over the sound of the engine, and Angeline felt tears well in her eyes. She was so emotional, as a result of the long couple of days that she had had, the things she had found out, and what Mitch had just said to her. She nearly started blurting her apologies, but Mitch was already looking like he regretted opening his mouth.

His large hands clenched the wheel and he was breathing heavy through his nose. Angeline felt insanely guilty, and whilst she was nothing like her family, she felt like she should be personally apologising-- like it had been her against him, her being a terrorist and him a victim. Angeline knew she had nothing to do with it, but she found herself wanting to scoop him up and hug the life out of him. Mitch was suddenly appearing a lot less 2D in her mind.

It made sense if his family were killed by terrorists, that's why he would want to join the CIA and get rid of them. A lot of puzzle pieces were suddenly being discovered in Angeline's brain. His moodiness... his standoffish nature and the way he clearly didn't like to get close to anyone.

"I'm sorry," Angeline breathed after a minute or so.

Mitch's grip didn't loosen. "Save your apologies, Angeline. It's got nothing to do with you."

"It's called being empathetic," Angeline scowled a little. "Because, unlike you, I actually care about the way that you feel."

The car pulled into the parking lot of a motel that Angeline didn't even realise they'd been driving up to. As the engine cut out, Mitch snapped to face Angeline. She nearly jumped back at his close proximity, a small lump in her throat at the burning look in his hazel eyes.

"I don't care how you feel, Angeline," Mitch said. "You need to get it through your head right now that everything I do for you... it's for my job. Nothing is ever personal, so forgive me for not giving a shit if you're upset about daddy being a psychopathic ass."

Angeline rolled her eyes as she unbuckled her belt. She climbed out of the car and leaned back in, holding the frame of the car, to sneer back.

"So the birthday card and the coffee was just part of the job description when you became a counter-terrorism operative, huh? Or literally crashing my birthday party to make sure I got home on time? That sounds kind of personal to me, doesn't it, Mitch? I don't give a fuck if you think you're just doing your job. You might hate to admit it, but you care about me more than you probably should. We both know it."

With that, the brunette slammed the door and marched towards the lobby of the motel, not waiting for the assassin to follow her.

...


	15. Chapter 15

Angeline felt like she radiated power as she marched away from the car-- away from Mitch. She could hear him opening and slamming the car door, his heavy footsteps coming right after her, but the brunette pretended that she couldn't hear him, even when he hissed her name. This is how it should be, it should be Mitch trying to chase Angeline, not the other way around.

"Angeline," Mitch hissed one last time before his large hand snapped out and he grabbed her arm, pulling her back to face him. "What- What you just said crossed the line, and it couldn't have been further from the truth, by the way. You'd have to be completely delusional to believe shit like that."

"Call me delusional, then." Angeline held her hands up in defence, knocking Mitch's hand off of her in the process. "I don't give a shit. I've been called a lot worse."

Mitch ran his hand across his face, shaking his head. "I wonder why," he muttered.

"Because I call shit as I see it," Angeline scowled, shoving him by the shoulder, although the nearly six-foot man didn't budge an inch.

Mitch pushed her back lighter, the brunette stumbling a tiny bit. "Don't do that again," he spat.

"Or what?" Angeline glared.

Mitch just glared. He wasn't really a man of words-- Angeline had gathered that much. He most likely fought his way out of fights like this, but he obviously wasn't going to knock her out, so he settled with judgy glares and clenched hands that were meant to look threatening.

"Forget it," Angeline whispered, shaking her head. "None of it matters. The less we fight, the quicker this is all over anyway. Then we never have to see each other again."

The dark-haired man watched as she shoved past him and headed back to the car, opening the trunk to grab her duffel bag. He didn't want to admit that her words had scraped at his heart a little, not a lot, but a little. Mitch managed to convince himself it was just an ego thing as he sauntered over to Angeline, grabbing his own duffel bag and slamming the trunk shut after.

"Can you do an American accent?"

Angeline scrunched her face up. "I can do a Manchester one pretty well. Or, like, I'm kind of decent at Australian--"

Mitch sighed loudly. "That's not what I asked. I asked if you could do an American accent."

She shrugged. "I guess. Why?"

"Show me."

"Is this some sort of kink thing--"

"Angeline," Mitch warned her. "I'm being serious. You talk loud and your voice stands out too much."

Angeline tried not to take offence, her nose scrunching up a little as she folded her arms across her chest. She opened her mouth to try an accent, except as soon as she did, she pursed her lips again, having no idea what to say. Mitch's intense gaze was quite off putting, and if she wasn't good enough no doubt would he let her know about it.

"Well, what should I say?" Angeline questioned him.

"Introduce yourself to me," Mitch replied. "With a fake name."  
"What fake name?"

"For Christ's sake, Angeline!" Mitch groaned. "I don't know..." His hazel eyes cast to the floor beneath him. "Sandy."

Angeline snorted, her hand quickly moving to cover her mouth. "Oh my God," she erupted into a fit of laughter, leaning against the car and closing her eyes whilst Mitch looked less than amused. "Oh... You're actually serious?"

"When have I ever told a joke?"

A memory of being in the car on the way home from Starbucks with Mitch replayed in Angeline's head. She recalled seeing Levi and Grace kissing a few feet away and Mitch pretending to roll the window down and greet them, where he promptly proceeded to call her 'Angel'-- setting off a zoo full of butterflies in her stomach.

She blushed a little and shook her head. "Oh, yeah. Sorry. Forgot who I was dealing with here."

"Okay, so do the accent." Mitch rolled his eyes.

Angeline cleared her throat and tried to mimic the dialect she'd become used to over the past three years. An American accent wasn't hard to pull off, except she did feel the pressure with Mitch, obviously an American, stood right there staring at her intently.

"Okay, so, I'm Sandy, I recently turned eighteen and I'm from California," Angeline did her best, watching as Mitch's lips sort of twisted in contemplation.

"It's good."

Angeline pursed her lips before she could thank him out of habit, gripping her duffel bag and hauling it over her shoulder. Mitch started to head towards the motel's entrance without another word, leaving Angeline to silently follow. He pushed open the door, a bell above rattling like they had walked into a corner store or something. Mitch seemed slightly on edge as he glanced around, hazel eyes taking in everything around him.

"Hello there," an older woman with a thick southern accent greeted them. "What can I do for the two of you this evening?"

Mitch leaned against the counter. "Just a room for tonight, thanks."

"Of course, dear," the woman tapped a few things into the cash register in front of her. "A double bed?"

"Yeah," the assassin grumbled, nearly making Angeline's eyes bulge out of her sockets. "How much is that gonna be?" He asked as he slipped his wallet out of the back of his dark jeans.

"Eighty for the night, darling," the blonde woman grinned, producing a key and handing it over. "I'm gonna need to see some ID."

Mitch nodded, pulling a card out of his wallet and sliding it across the counter. The woman only got a brief look before he was taking it back and putting it where it belonged. Angeline guessed it was most definitely a fake ID.

"Okay, Mike. Your room needs to be cleared by this time tomorrow," the receptionist explained, handing Mitch back some change. "And we don't do room service."

"That's fine, thanks," Mitch nodded and grabbed everything he needed before he started to head towards the elevator.

Angeline smiled politely at the woman before she followed after Mitch who was holding the elevator door open for her. As soon as it slid closed behind her, she turned to Mitch with a glare.

"A double bed?" She exclaimed. "You couldn't have taken two separate ones?"

"No doubt will one of your father's goons be following our tracks," Mitch answered. "And whether that's tomorrow or this time next week, it looks suspicious if a man and a woman come in and sleep in two separate beds. That's the kind of shit they'll find out about, and they'll know for sure it was us here."

"Could have said you snored." Angeline rolled her eyes.

"I'll sleep on the floor," Mitch huffed. "Don't get your panties in a twist, prin--"

"Do not finish that sentence," she snapped, pointing a finger at him.

The elevator ride came to a stop and Angeline was leaving as soon as she could fit through the gap of the opening doors. All she wanted was to sleep on a bed that had a pillow and sheets and a mattress. However, looking around at the grubby interior, the teenage girl didn't exactly have high expectations.

Mitch found their door and unlocked it, pushing the wood open to reveal an average looking hotel room. It was less than what Angeline had stayed in in years, but she wasn't going to complain. She headed straight for the double bed in the centre of the room, dumping the duffel bag on top of it and then collapsing beside it. She hummed loudly, closing her eyes.

"Comfy?" Mitch muttered sarcastically as he came back from the bathroom after checking it was definitely empty.

Angeline squinted her eyes open, watching as he moved to the window and peeled open the blinds with his fingers, looking down at the carpark that he had just been in. She wondered if she was meant to be in this state of paranoia too, if maybe she was feeling a little too comfortable right now. Perhaps it hadn't truly settled in yet what was really happening to her.

"Kind of," Angeline replied quietly, not in the mood to spit a witty remark back.

She watched Mitch put his own bag down on the small table in the middle of the kitchenette that they had, pulling out the chair and settling into it. He started to go through his bag, bringing out a small laptop which he opened and typed the password into.

"What are you doing?" She asked curiously.

"Checking... things," Mitch replied, clearly not wanting to talk to her too much.

From her spot on the bed, Angeline could see a lot of coding and maps that had red dots on that kept flashing and moving. She guessed that Mitch was probably well-trained in whatever all of it meant, but she couldn't make it out whatsoever.

"How long is this going to last?" Angeline asked, dreading the response that she guessed she was going to get from Mitch. "I mean... My friends... When will I get to see them again? And I'm supposed to be going to Harvard in a few months, which I worked my arse off for by the way, so..."

Mitch's slender fingers quit with the gliding they were doing against his keyboard and he turned to face her, a slightly sympathetic expression written across his face this time. It was the softest that Angeline had seen him in a while. In fact, part of her had expected him to snap her head off at the question or tell her that Harvard was the least of his worries.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Everything depends on how quickly I can get you to that safehouse and how quickly we can get your father arrested, Williams too."

Angeline knew he was sugarcoating things and she bit her bottom lip with a small frown. Mitch recognised the expression and sighed, knowing that Angeline was smarter than he remembered. 

"Harvard might have to wait," he admitted. "But I'm sure there's ways the CIA can work around it to make sure you still get in after all of this."

The brunette was still frowning nevertheless. That was definitely not what she wanted to hear, even if it was the truth.

"Okay," she murmured before she sat up. "Um, I'm gonna have a shower."

"Okay," Mitch replied, one eye on her as he watched her grab some clothes and a shower bag out of her belongings.

She headed to the bathroom, grimacing at the tiny shower that she'd have to use. It took her a moment to work out the plastic dial attached to the tiled wall, but once she did, she had the hot water running. The pressure was ridiculously low and didn't appear to want to come out any faster, making Angeline sigh.

"Fuck sake," she muttered.

She climbed under it and allowed it to run through her hair. It felt good to get all of the sweat and dirt out of her brown locks, her eyes closing as she tried to imagine that she was back home in her own shower.

Memories of back home just brought back memories of the family she had been forced to leave behind. She hadn't cried much since finding out about her father and her brother, so she guessed she was probably still in a state of shock. Her heart ached for her best friends, for Paige and Ciara. She missed them so much already. She wondered if 'Darcy' had dropped the act and ditched them yet, or, much to Angeline's horror, if she was still playing her innocent school girl act. 

Angeline washed her hair and scrubbed her body. She started to shave her legs, deciding she should make the most of her time without Mitch breathing down her neck. Mitch had been pissing her off a lot lately— she knew it was part of the job, but he was so uptight and boring and rude.

Her thoughts ran wild as she shaved her legs, accidentally slicing at her ankle. Angeline cringed at the sensation, knowing she'd definitely scraped a decent part of skin off, and as she looked down, all she was met with was red.

Crimson red.

It was everywhere, pooling down her foot already and mixing with the slow draining of the water. If clung to white surface and didn't stop pouring. Angeline's heartbeat quickened. She didn't see blood from her ankle— she saw the blood on Renold's body. The hole through his head as he lay lifeless in the foyer of her home.

Angeline screamed.

At first, she wasn't aware she was doing so, and when she heard her voice, she thought it was somebody else. Banging at the bathroom door brought her out of it. She shoved the glass door open and wrapped her towel frantically around herself, dry sobs shaving past her lips as she looked back at the shower floor where blood still stained it.

"Angeline, get this door open!" Mitch bellowed.

Before she could, her shaky hands reaching for it, she heard a grunt and a powerful kick to the lock. The door handle sort of crumbled off and Mitch was able to swing it open, hazel eyes wide as he scanned the room, pistol raised in his hands. Once he'd assessed that it was just the two of them, he sighed heavily and lowered his gun.

Angeline was still shaking like a leaf, holding onto her towel as she struggled to remember to blink.

"What the hell happened?" Mitch demanded.

"There was so much blood," Angeline whispered, "All over him. All over me."

Mitch, respectively, glanced over her body. He saw blood pooling at her left foot and frowned.

"Where did that come from?" He said, moving back into the main room to grab a first aid kit.

"I cut myself while— whilst shaving," Angeline whispered shakily.

"Cut yourself is an understatement," Mitch muttered, pulling out a couple of plaster and handing them to her. "You're bleeding all over the floor."

Angeline closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm— I don't know where that came from."

"You're traumatised," the shaggy-haired man huffed. "Pretty normal after seeing your first dead body."

"Well, I hope it's my last."

"For your sake, me too, Angeline. Me too."

...


	16. Chapter 16

Angeline moved back into the bathroom once she had calmed down, changing into a pair of cotton shorts and an oversized shirt. She perched herself up on the countertop and used a wet flannel to get rid of the dried blood around her ankles. Her hands still shook slightly, but as she watched the blood disappear from her soft skin, she wondered why it had freaked her out so badly in the first place.

A quick knock came to the door, despite the fact that it was open. Mitch appeared exhausted, not through his stance, but through the slight bags beneath his hazel eyes. Suddenly he looked like he was at least thirty rather than in his early twenties.

"Are you nearly done? I need to use the shower," Mitch said.

The brunette gave a small nod as she finished wringing out the flannel. "Um... Is there like a laundry basket or something I can put this in?"

Mitch shrugged. "Just leave it in the sink. Someone will deal with it when we leave in the morning."

Angeline didn't say anything but did as she was told, leaving the flannel in the sink and heading back out into the main room. Mitch shut the door behind her and seconds later she heard the water get flicked on. She shuffled over to the double bed that they were apparently going to be sharing and cringed as it creaked beneath her, a metal spring sticking out of the mattress at the bottom.

She sat there for a few minutes, her back up against the wooden headboard and her feet curled up to her chest as she thought about everything that had happened in the past day or so. She couldn't help thinking about it all, no matter how much she desperately wanted to block it all out. Angeline wondered where the safe house was going to be, and who she would be staying with when she got there. Most importantly, she wondered how long she'd have to be there.

She forced her mind to drift from the situation, her eyes training on the window. Amora moved over and shifted the blinds that Mitch had shut within the first minute of entering the hotel room, peering out of them. It was just the car park down below, as well as the main road that they had peeled off of. Cars zoomed down it every now and then, and Angeline envied the fact that those people were probably going home.

The teenage girl turned away from the window, listening to the shower. Her heart skipped a beat when an intrusive image of Mitch stood beneath the water then filled her brain, and she quickly shook her head, fighting off a small smile and forcing herself to focus on... her nails.

It only took a second to get bored with their cranberry colour before her mind drifted to that place once more. Her cheeks heated up and she sat back down on the bed, trying to block out the sound. When she heard the squeaking click of the water being shut off, followed by the curtain swiftly being pulled open, Angeline grabbed a book out of her bag. She'd managed to grab it alongside the photograph of her friends before she left.

Angeline feigned reading it when the door slid open and Mitch appeared in nothing but joggers. She inwardly groaned, the water droplets cascading down his broad shoulders and his back doing nothing to stop her imagination from running wild. She wasn't sure why she was suddenly thinking of him far more sexually than usual, but at least it put a stop to the thoughts of her family and the things that had happened.

Mitch rubbed the towel across his hair, scrunching it dry and then chucking it over the chair sat at the small table in their kitchenette. He acted like Angeline wasn't there, but she was pretty sure he could probably feel her eyes on him as she peered over her book.

"It's upside down," he deadpanned.

"Hm?" Angeline shot him a confused glance.

"Your book. It's upside down," Mitch said.

Angeline blushed. "Yeah, well- well, I know that, don't I?" She stammered, shaking her head. "I've already read this book. Three times. Now I'm reading it upside down. I'm training my brain."

"Hm. Never heard of that party trick before," Mitch mused, and Angeline held back the roll of her eyes. "We have to leave first thing in the morning, by the way. Back on the road by six. So I'd get some sleep if I were you."

"Six?" Angeline repeated incredulously, dropping her book onto her lap. "Oh, come on, I didn't even wake up for school that early--"

"Didn't ask," Mitch replied as he shuffled through his duffel bag for a t-shirt.

"Ugh, you're so annoying."

"Ugh, you're such an entitled brat," he mimicked her, using the high-pitched tone that she mentioned hating once before.

Angeline said nothing but kicked her legs out and laid down on the bed. Her foot grazed the spring poking out of the mattress and she pulled it back, frowning. She knew for sure that she wasn't going to get a good night sleep here. Not when she was used to her king-sized bed back home, accompanied by the fluffiest of pillows and most luxurious duvets.

Maybe Mitch was right. Maybe she was being an entitled brat, but she couldn't help it. She was right too, though. He was annoying.

"Are you going to sleep?" She asked curiously.

"Yes," Mitch replied, not looking up from where he was typing away at his laptop again, his slender fingers working quickly and making no mistakes, even as he stared restlessly at the screen in front of him, its blue light highlighting his face.

"Where?"

"In the armchair," he answered.

Angeline frowned. "If... if you want, I can take the armchair," she suggested, this time actually gaining the full attention of the brunet man. "You probably need to rest up more than me, especially if you're driving. Plus I'm way smaller than you. I can, like, curl myself up on that or something."

"No," he said and then went back to typing.

"No thank you," Angeline corrected him.

"Oh, so you do know manners?" Mitch scoffed.

"Yeah, so suck my dick, you arsehole," Angeline snapped at him, frustrated with his attitude.

Mitch glared at her. "Watch it."

"Or what?" The brown-eyed girl pushed him.

She wasn't sure if she was actually angry with him or if she was simply bored and in need of some entertainment, but she found herself wanting a good response out of Mitch. It was probably a mixture of the two.

Mitch sent her a chilling look, his hazel eyes darkening. "You don't want to know, Angel."

Fuck. There was that nickname again, the one that had driven her insane the first and only time he had called her it. She recalled rushing to text Ciara about it, a grin on her face as the pair of teenage girls joked around. Except Angeline wasn't even really joking when she said it turned her on.

The look on her face instantly made Mitch smirk. Angeline noticed and felt furious that she had let him get to her and he knew it. It was her speciality to make men feel uncomfortable, not the other way around. She thought that they'd established this already.

"Maybe I do want to know," Angeline murmured with a sultry glance, making sure to rack her eyes up and down his body so it was obvious.

Mitch's jaw clenched and his hand curled into a fist from where it hovered above the keyboard when he saw the way she bit her lip, her hand smoothing up her chest to hold her shoulder slightly. She moved it further up and wrapped a lock of her around her finger, twiddling with it.

"Stop it," he spat.

"Stop what?" Angeline asked innocently, her brown eyes glittering mischievously in contrast. "I was just asking you a question, Mr Rapp. Since you're the one in charge here."

Mitch suddenly stood up, the chair scraping behind him as he marched over to Angeline. His large hand grabbed her jaw, his fingers digging into her skin as he forced her to look up at him. He dug his fingers in even harder so that her lips were pouting under his touch. Angeline nearly gasped, seeing the fury and lust behind his eyes.

"Damn right I'm in charge," Mitch spat, jerking Angeline back and gripping her harder when she started to smirk at him. "And I'm not fucking scared to put you in your place when you're acting like a spoiled brat, Angeline."

Angeline didn't know what came over her. "Then put me in my place," she whispered, her hand moving up to hold his arm.

Mitch's eyes clouded over and he groaned, tilting her head back and moving down to smash his lips against Angeline's roughly. His hand moved down from her jaw and to her neck as she leaned up on her knees on top of the bed, one hand in his hair and the other holding the arm that could choke her if he really wanted to. He squeezed at her neck slightly as he tilted his head, lips working furiously against hers.

It was like months of tension had sizzled out of their bodies, melting into one another and allowing them to finally show just how truly annoying the other one had been. Angeline tugged at the back of his hair and Mitch groaned into her lips, his hand trailing down her shirt and then underneath.

He made no moves to head towards her breasts, his large hand holding the small of her back instead as he pushed her so she got the idea and stood up from the bed. Without detaching their lips, Angeline did just that, except once she was in front of him, she was suddenly being forced down onto her knees. Angeline's brown eyes widened as she looked up at him.

"This is my place?" She dared to ask. "On my knees for you?"

Mitch growled and grabbed the back of her hair, tugging her head back and ignoring her small cry. His hand moved from her hair and he grabbed her chin, steering her to look him in the eye as his thumb hooked to her bottom lip and dragged it down.

"Only if you say yes," Mitch said.

Angeline knew her standard for the male species was low when consent made her heart swoon a little. Instead of answering, her hands moved to the waistband of his joggers, but Mitch grabbed her before she could move them, her fist nearly completely engulfed in his.

"Use your words, Angeline," Mitch warned, "I'm not doing anything with you unless you tell me now that you want it."

"Yes," Angeline replied breathily, "Yes, I want it."

His hand was back in her hair. "Then put your mouth to use for once."

Angeline didn't know that he was the degrading type, but the more she thought about it, the more fitting it was. She wasn't complaining, anyway. Excitement filled her at the revelation that Mitch wouldn't be as vanilla as some of her past boyfriends had been. Although, the only good thing about Levi had been his mouth.

His hand shoved her head down, closer to his crotch as she reached to pull down his joggers. Angeline was not surprised to see that Mitch was packing downstairs, his dick already hard. Mitch inhaled when the brunette reached out and moved her hand up and down it for a few seconds, biting down on his lip when he saw Angeline's face move closer to it.

His dick twitched slightly as her mouth closed over the top of it, her tongue flattening as she used the tip of her muscle to run across his shaft whilst she began to suck.

"Fuck," Mitch hissed. "See? Looks like your mouth is good for other things than bitching on and on."

Angeline considered bringing him to his peak and then pulling him away before he could climax for that comment alone, but she decided against it.

She'd rather give him the best blowjob of his life, just so she could hold it against him. Her hand that had been previously holding his thigh moved to the base of his cock, and she jerked it up and down as she spat down his length, using her saliva to slick him up.

Mitch's hand scrunched in her hair harder and his head tilted back and his jaw clenching. He swore he could see stars as his hand shoved Angeline down further, hearing and feeling her gag around him slightly. Angeline's eyes watered and she breathed through her nose the best she could as she bobbed her head up and down.

Mitch pulled out of her mouth after a couple of minutes, instantly missing the tight warmth she had provided. Before Angeline could speak, he grabbed her by the cheeks yet again and forced her face into another pout for him. Mitch gave the brunette some room to open her mouth and then spat directly inside it, her eyes widening. 

Before she could swallow, he thrust his cock back past her lips, thrusting in and out so he hit the back of her throat. Angeline groaned around him, her hands on his thighs for leverage as her choking sounds filled the dingy motel room and drove Mitch to go faster, knowing for a fact that her throat would be fucked in the morning.

As soon as he glanced down from where his head had been thrown back whilst he was in oblivion, his eyes met Angeline's and he couldn't even give a warning before he came. A loud groan escaped his lips as Angeline swallowed everything he gave her whilst he thrusted unevenly and lazily.

"Angel..." He breathed.

He released a heavy sigh again as he pulled out of her mouth, Angeline wiping her lips with the back of her hand. Mitch decided he liked her best when she looked like this; her lips swollen, her hair messy from his hands and her cheeks flushed.

Angeline stood up from the floor, sitting back onto the edge of the mattress and rolling her eyes as she ran her hands over her knees which had gone red from the wood.

"Maybe now you'll be less cranky..." She muttered, a scowl on her face when Mitch ignored her and moved back over to his laptop. "Um... Don't act like I didn't just make you cum in five minutes. Got anything to say?"

Anything you want to do? In return, perhaps?

"What do you want? A trophy that says, 'thanks for sucking my dick'?" Mitch replied sarcastically, not looking at her again.

"Oh, fuck you, you fucking twat," Angeline spat and marched towards the bathroom.

She slammed the door behind her and moved to lock it before she realised the handle had been broken off by Mitch when he'd thought she was hurt in the bathroom about an hour ago. Angeline's face scrunched up in distaste and she moved to sit on top of the countertop, her hand disappearing past her panties.

If Mitch wouldn't finish her off, then she'd just have to do it herself.

She should have fucking pulled away and not let him cum.


	17. Chapter 17

Angeline felt a bitter resentment to Mitch as she stormed out of the bathroom ten minutes later, keeping her chin held high as she flicked the light off to the room and settled into the bed, pulling the thin duvet covers all the way up to her chin. The sound of Mitch's typing stopped for a couple of seconds and he released an aggravated huff through his nose at the sudden darkness, but then, much to Angeline's annoyance, he carried on typing.

She couldn't believe that, in that moment, she had seriously let everything get to her and she'd ended up on her knees in front of Mitch Rapp. If Angeline could, she would have gone straight to her phone and texted her group chat about what an ass he was straight afterwards, but her hands remained empty and her brain drifted from the man sat a few feet away back to her friends.

She missed Ciara and Paige and she wondered if they missed her too yet. It had only been a few days, but she wondered if her dad was covering up her disappearance or if the whole school knew she wasn't turning up any more. The thought of her slipping attendance nearly made her visibly cringe against the flattened pillow beneath her head. It was nearly as uncomfortable as the mattress under her body. She preferred sleeping in Mitch's car.

Angeline cringed when she turned on the mattress, hearing the rickety bed frame squeak underneath her. She didn't even want Mitch to look at her right now-- he didn't deserve to. If she could unsuck his dick she would.

Now she was glad he would be sleeping on the grim armchair. She hoped his back ached in the morning and his neck was so stiff it cracked every time he moved.

Out of pure pettiness and bitter resentment for the man who had been practically spying on her since September, Angeline reached across the double bed and grabbed the pillow meant for the second person, putting it under hers so he didn't have one. It wasn't quite the sweet revenge that she would like to get, but it would do for now.

What must have been an hour of staring at the wall went by before Angeline heard the lid of the laptop slowly close, and the small amount of light coming from his corner quickly diminished. She listened to him shuffle around, his chair scraping back as he stood up again and walked to the bathroom. He only spent a couple of minutes inside before he came back out, and Angeline closed her eyes, despite the darkness, hoping to appear asleep.

"I know you're awake," Mitch deadpanned as he peeled his shirt off and scrunched it up into a ball, propping it behind his neck as he sat in the chair. "And what happened tonight was a mistake. It will never happen again."

"Nothing happened for me," Angeline said disinterestedly. 

Mitch remained silent, supposedly ignoring her. "You seemed fine on your own afterwards."

Angeline realised he must have heard her in the bathroom, even though she was quiet. She couldn't bring herself to be embarrassed, not when she'd literally just let him spit in her mouth. Not that it would happen again.

"Yeah, highlight of my week, actually," Angeline snapped.

No more words were exchanged between the pair as Mitch shuffled to get more comfortable on the armchair. Angeline turned so that she wasn't facing him anymore, her eyes fluttering shut as everything seemed to come rushing back to her in the silence of the room. Her father, her brother...

A few tears silently leaked from her eyes and cascaded down onto the pillow below. Angeline didn't dare sniffle or move to wipe them away, not wanting Mitch to realise that she was finally processing everything and coming to terms with the fact that her life had literally changed overnight.

Angeline couldn't remember falling asleep, all she knew was that she was exhausted when a hand grabbed her arm and shook her awake. For a few seconds, the girl was disorientated, forgetting where she was and who she was with, but it came flooding back as soon as she saw Mitch. She rolled her eyes and rolled over.

"Angeline," he warned, "We need to leave in fifteen minutes."

He stood there for about ten seconds. When Angeline heard him open his mouth again, she chucked the covers off of her body and slid out of the other side of the bed, not even glancing at him as she moved to the bathroom. Again, she forgot there was no lock, but put emphasis on slamming it anyway so Mitch would hear and not intrude.

Angeline took a quick shower, not getting her hair wet, and brushed her teeth before she left the room and grabbed her bag full of clothes. Mitch was sliding his laptop into its case, glancing up at her as she grabbed out a pair of mom shorts and some baggy graphic tee that had been very unreasonably priced at Urban Outfitters.

"Hurry--"

Angeline sent him a glare so harsh that Mitch actually pursed his lips and left her alone. Maybe she was being a bit harsh, but he'd really pissed her off last night. Not just because he hadn't reciprocated her actions, but because he had brushed her off afterwards and she was already feeling sensitive as it was.

She moved to the bathroom and changed into her new outfit, realising it was her last clean one before she'd have to start recycling her others. She took her hair out of the low ponytail she'd slept in and ran her hands through it, slipping on her shoes and leaving the bathroom.

Mitch was already by the door, her duffel bag in his hand. He extended it towards her and she took it, barely looking him in the eye. She hoped he didn't think of her as some easy teenager or anything now, like she would get on her knees for just anybody. He already thought she was a brat.

They wordlessly moved down to the lobby where the woman from yesterday was. She beamed up at them as Mitch slid the keys along the countertop, her wrinkly hand grasping them.

"Thanks, darling," she said, dropping it into a plastic container beside her. "Hope you enjoyed your stay."

"It was fine, thank you," Mitch said, turning to leave when Angeline turned to the woman.

"There's a spring sticking out of the mattress," she said, reluctantly feigning the American accent that Mitch had told her to fake. "And the water pressure in the shower was quite low, actually, I think there's something wrong with it--"

Mitch grabbed her arm and tugged her towards him. "Sorry about her," he played an apologetic smile.

Angeline rolled her eyes as she was pulled away from the counter and out of the motel. The sunlight streamed down on her body and Mitch gave an extra harsh tug towards the car.

"Look, Little Miss Rich Girl, sorry it was no casino resort or whatever, and you didn't get your jacuzzi and steam room, but you gotta keep a low profile or you're going to get both our asses caught," Mitch spat, his mouth dangerously close to her ear as he led her round to the passenger side, looking inside before opening the door for her.

Angeline climbed inside and glared at him. "I was being honest so she could improve her motel--"

"You're trying to push me," Mitch snapped.

"Sounds like you're suffering MCS, Mitch," Angeline tutted, earning a strange look from the man. "Main Character Syndrome."

Mitch's confused expression melted away to reveal one of annoyance and he slammed the door, moving around to the driver's side.

...

Hours and hours of silence was quite literally driving Angeline insane. Mitch didn't let her turn on the radio, and she'd finished her book within the first half an hour. She wasn't lying when she said she had already read it three times before anyway. She pulled her knees up to her chest, burning her cheek on them and looking out of the window as the passed by roads of nothing.

"Can we stop at the garage?" Angeline murmured, "Or the gas station, whatever you wanna call it."

Mitch's hazel eyes flickered to her briefly. "Why?"

"I want to get a new book."

"Sure. Want me to stop at Sephora on the way so you can get some new lipgloss or something too?" Mitch replied sarcastically and Angeline could have reached across and punched him.   
"You know, I get this is just your job or whatever like you said before, but I thought we were fine before this. You were never this mean to me," Angeline stated bitterly.

"Mean?" Mitch repeated in a scoff, shaking his head as he checked his mirrors, continuing down the road. "Sorry, do I hurt your feelings? You haven't exactly been pleasant either."

"Well, I just found out my family are terrorists," Angeline snapped, "And you gaslit me as soon as I started to get upset about it."

"It's easier for both of us if we don't have any attachments," Mitch said, "You might have thought we had one when I was pretending to work for your father, but it was all part of the act, Angeline."

"Somehow, I doubt that's the full truth."

Mitch didn't reply, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. Angeline had nothing better to do than to drift off into a small nap, her head resting on her arm as she closed her eyes. When her eyes flickered open again, she realised that the car had stopped moving and they were outside a garage. Mitch was pumping the car with petrol, not yet noticing that she was awake.

Angeline kept her head down as she watched him head inside, moments later coming back with a bag full of things. He nudged her 'awake' as he started to drive again. Angeline feigned a small glare.

"What do you want?"

"I have food," he said, chucking her a sandwich and a packet of crisps.

He reached into the bag that was on his lap, producing a bottle of water too. He grabbed another out and used one hand to steer whilst the other guided his bottle to his lips, taking generous swigs whilst Angeline opened her crisps beside him.

"Take the bag," he grumbled.

Angeline grabbed it and was surprised at the weight of it. She reached inside and found that there were a couple of books inside, both quite thick and bound to keep her entertained for a while. The brunette's body relaxed and she chewed the inside of her cheek, sneaking a glance at Mitch and wondering if she should thank him or not.

"Want a crisp?" She asked instead, hesitant.

Mitch shook his head and said nothing, but somehow it felt like a lot of the anger towards one another had melted from the car by now. His shoulders weren't as tense as he carried on driving, well into the night. He eventually pulled over at another motel and Angeline had to purse her lips to stop herself from making a comment about how gross it was.

"These places are the best for us because they're likely to not have surveillance, or at least not good cameras," Mitch said as if he could read the expression on her face whilst they grabbed their bags out of the boot of the car. "And there are fewer formalities. Won't quiz you on your ID. Sometimes don't even ask."

Angeline frowned softly. "I see."

And so the pair moved onto their second motel so far. She wondered how many more were to come. This motel had air conditioning as they entered the small lobby area, cool air brushing Angeline's hair back as they walked towards the front desk. A young man was sat behind it, probably a year or two older than Angeline and a year or two younger than Mitch. He glanced up at them both, raising his brows and kicking his legs off of the desk.

Angeline realised he was attractive straight away. Shaggy blond hair and baby blue eyes, the boy clearly worked out, a loose vest top thrown over some shorts on his body. His gaze lingered on Angeline for a few moments before Mitch cleared his throat rather aggressively.

"My girlfriend and I need a room for the night," Mitch demanded.

"Coming right up..." The boy drawled carelessly, his hands slowly typing something into the computer beside him as if he had all of the time in the world. "Room 7c."

He grabbed the keys and dangled them for Mitch to snatch. Angeline realised he wasn't wearing a nametag or anything and assumed that it was probably a family business. He had Netflix streaming on his phone next to the computer too.

"Fifty bucks, dude," he said. "No room service included. Vending machine right there, though. Runs all night."

Mitch drew out the money and tossed it onto the countertop, not waiting for the boy to count it up before he took off in the direction of all of the motel rooms. Angeline followed, her eyes scanning all of the doors until they reached the one that read '7c'. He pushed the door open. It was exactly like the one from yesterday.

Mitch scanned the area before he allowed Angeline to lock the room door behind her. She chained it up for extra precaution and drifted towards the double bed. There was no extra armchair this time. Neither of them said anything but they knew what it meant.

"I'm going to have a shower."

And so, for the second time that day, Angeline showered. Once she got out, she tied her hair back into french braids to keep it out of her face and she changed back into her pyjamas— another oversized tee and cotton shorts.

Mitch was on the bed when she walked out, since there was no table. He had his back against the headboard and his laptop back on his lap.

"What are you even doing on that?" Angeline asked as she put her dirty clothes back into her duffel bag on the floor.

"Talking."

"To who?"

"My... boss."

Angeline huffed, sitting down on the bed next to him but scooting across to leave a fair amount of distance. She noticed the small television set at the end of the bed and gasped as she grabbed the remote. She groaned when it didn't turn on, flinging the remote towards the bottom of the mattress.

Angeline grabbed her new books out instead. Anything to distract her bored mind. She was probably fifty pages in when she heard a slight snore from beside her. Angeline jumped, her brows raising when she saw Mitch was falling asleep, his head leaning back.

She stared at him until his snores grew deeper and more even, a small smirk crossing her face when she realised he was finally asleep. Angeline stood from the bed and moved to the kitchenette where Mitch's bag was. She shuffled through it until she found his wallet and took out a couple dollars.

Creeping quietly, Angeline moved to the door and unlocked it before she slowly slid out, closing it behind her with a small click. She wandered down the hall and back to the lobby where the vending machine the boy had mentioned before was.

Angeline stopped in front of it, inspecting the rows of confectionary and fizzy drinks. She decided to go for one of the energy drinks at the bottom, inserting Mitch's dollar and punching in the correct code.

She grabbed the bottle as soon as it had fallen into the collection part below, turning around only to yelp in fear at somebody behind her. It was the receptionist boy.

"You scared me to death," Angeline muttered, placing her hand on her chest where her heart rate began to slow.

"Sorry," the blond boy gave her a small grin, shrugging. "I'm Evan, by the way."

"Angel," the girl replied, before nearly smacking her own forehead. She should definitely not have told him that.

"That your real name?" Evan asked.

"Yeah," she lied, "So... family business?"

"You guessed it," he huffed, rolling his eyes. "I hate this place."

Angeline raised her brows, figuring that agreeing with him would be quite rude. She tightened her grip on her energy drink and tapped her foot.

"I like the name Angel," Evan said, blue eyes practically telling her everything she needed to know about his intentions. "Do you live up to the name?"

Angeline smirked. "Of being an angel? Not all the time."

Evan smirked too, his handsome face sending jolts through Angeline. He looked like he was straight off a Californian beach, broad shoulders and tanning skin. He took a step closer towards Angeline and she did the same, watching as his large hand reached to grab her drink.

He tossed it onto one of the rundown couches that sat in the lobby and then grabbed her jaw and pulled her into a swift kiss. Angeline kissed back immediately, her arms wrapping around the boy who had to be well over six foot. His hands found her ass rather quickly.

God, she just needed to release some of the pent up anger and frustration and anxiety that was building inside of her, and who better to do that with than a complete stranger? And a hot one at that. If Mitch wouldn't help her out, she'd find it somewhere else. 

"What about your boyfriend?" Evan whispered against her lips, though his hands made no attempt to stop caressing her.

Angeline rolled her eyes at the title Mitch had given himself.

"He's asleep," she muttered, "Let's just go somewhere more private, yeah?"

Evan led Angeline into the back room where, finally, thanks to the boy's more than skilled fingers, she was able to get a decent release. It was over relatively fast, neither wanting to be caught by any other people at the motel, but it was good nevertheless.

Angeline was panting slightly, trying to catch her breath as she pulled up her panties and shorts. Evan grinned at her, swiping his tongue across his teeth.

"You from around here, Angel?" He asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She murmured, "Doesn't matter, anyway. I have a boyfriend."

Evan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you won't tell him about that, will you? I don't feel like getting my face punched in tonight."

Angeline scoffed. "My lips are sealed."

Yanking her energy drink off of the couch, Angeline saluted at Evan and then retreated back to her motel room. As soon as she put the key in the lock, the door was yanked open and a pistol was pointed right in her face.

Her scream was caught in her throat, no sound coming out of her mouth and her eyes bulged, hands shooting up in surrender and her energy drinking dropping to the ground. Mitch huffed at her and lowered the gun, grabbing her by the shoulder and yanking her inside.

"Where the fuck did you go?" He hissed furiously.

"To get a drink, calm down," Angeline glared, numbly picking up the can off the floor and trying to regain a feeling that wasn't complete terror in her body.

"To- to get a drink?!" He spluttered a mocking laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Could you be anymore fucking stupid?"

Angeline swallowed thickly. "I'm alive, aren't I? In fact, the only danger I've faced today is you pointing a bloody gun in my face!"

"Don't talk to me like you know everything," Mitch hissed, "I was about to come looking for you." 

Angeline could only imagine the horror on his face if he walked in on her bent over a desk, the receptionist boy from before having his way with her. She rolled her eyes and tried to walk past him.

"Do you understand how dangerous that could have been?" He stopped her.

Angeline cracked her energy drink open and took a long swig in response. She sighed in satisfaction and licked her lips with a small smile.

"Yep. Worth it," she chirped.

She'd never seen Mitch look so furious. He opened his mouth and pointed a finger at her, the veins in his hands and arms and neck nearly popping out, but he cut himself off and released a grunt before storming into the bathroom and slamming the door shut before he did something he'd regret.

Angeline smiled to herself and dropped down onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Grabbing her book again, she started to read, Mitch emerging about ten minutes later with a clenched jaw. He didn't acknowledge her existence as he moved next to her, grabbing his laptop out again.

She wondered if they'd ever be civil with each other again.

...


	18. Chapter 18

"Here's your key."

Angeline avoided eye contact with Evan as the blond boy grabbed the room key off of the reception desk Mitch had slid across. Not so subtly, he shot Angeline a wink as he put it away.

Mitch raised his brows, but didn't wait around for Angeline to react. Instead, he shot Evan a deathly stare and grabbed Angeline's arm, pulling her and their belongings out of the disgusting motel.

Mitch said nothing until they got into the car.

"Why did he wink at you?" Mitch demanded.

For a moment, Angeline thought about lying to Mitch. That was, until she realised how much it would piss him off and how much she didn't really like him right now.

"Probably because I made him cum last night," Angeline shrugged nonchalantly, staring at the dashboard. "And then he made me cum too. Like, a mutual thing."

Mitch's knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. He hadn't moved out of the carpark yet.

"Don't fucking piss me off," Mitch growled, "Tell me the fucking truth."

"That's the truth," Angeline said carelessly. "I had sex with him to relieve some... pent up frustrations, let's say."

"You think it's a joke?" Mitch seethed, grabbing her wrist before she could tuck her hair behind her ear. She was forced to look him in the eyes. "You think we're on some cute little road trip, Angeline? Getting to the end of this is the difference between life and death."

"So you get to get your dick sucked but I can't get my pussy—"

"Be quiet!" Mitch practically roared, tugging her wrist harshly again. "Be quiet. I could easily leave you for dead, Angeline. Easily."

Angeline swallowed thickly and tugged her arm out of his grasp. "Then do it. I'd rather be dead then spend more time with you."

It wasn't true. Angeline wouldn't rather be dead, and the way that Mitch's face went blank afterwards made her want to take it back. He didn't look sad or angry, he just turned away from her and exhaled loudly through his nose. His hands found the wheel again.

"You need to start showing me some respect," Mitch said quietly. "Then maybe I'll show you some as well."

"You've been awful to me, Mitch," Angeline hissed in a whisper. "My entire life has just flipped upside down and you've been nothing but hostile and rude to me."

"I'm not supposed to be friendly and lovable—"

"No, but you could try being a little sympathetic," Angeline glared, "I did nothing wrong for the first few hours. I can admit I've taken things too far sometimes, but I'm hurt, Mitch."

Mitch didn't say anything as the car pulled out of the car park. He didn't even look at Angeline for the next few hours. Not until he had to pull up at another gas station.

"What do you want for breakfast?" He grumbled.

"Surprise me," Angeline huffed as she continued to pick at her nails.

Mitch rolled his eyes and made sure to slam the car door behind him, his figure wandering into the gas station less than thirty feet away. Angeline sighed, feeling as though she could finally relax and spread her limbs.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she kicked her legs up onto the dashboard and leaned back in the seat, hoping to maybe fall asleep so she didn't have to deal with Mitch when he got back from paying for gas and buying them some food for the day. Like normal, she'd probably get a fruit pot and some yogurt for breakfast, an apple too if they had them free.

Not even ten seconds later, the window on the driver's side of the car was smashed in. Angeline barely had the chance to scream, shock causing her to bolt upright as shattered glass sprayed everywhere.

A man Angeline didn't recognise was frantically reaching through and unlocking the door from the inside. Angeline whimpered and quickly dove to unlock her door, crying out when she realised Mitch had locked everything up. It was supposed to stop people from getting in, but that didn't work, and now she couldn't even get out.

Angeline swerved in her seat so that her back was to the man and she used all her might to stomp both of her feet against the window of the car. She'd slipped her shoes off for comfort earlier into the car drive, her bare feet barely doing any damage but making the window frame wobble slightly.

When she felt the man climb into Mitch's seat, his arms wrapping around her to stop her. Angeline felt a burst of adrenaline and kicked her feet out twice as hard, using all of the power she had in her thighs.

"Fuck!" Angeline cried out as she heard gunshots go off from outside the car.

The man inside the car grabbed a fistful of her hair, trying to stop her moving so he could start the car, but Angeline drove her arm backwards and felt her elbow connect with his stomach.

"Little bitch!" The man growled.

Angeline felt like she couldn't breathe as scrambled forward to try and make it out of the window. It was awkward in such a small space, but as soon as her arms were out, she felt the man attempting to haul her back in.

Her hands gripped a hold of the window frame desperately, barely acknowledging the yells and gunshots going off around outside, cries leaving her lips as he continued to tug her back like some sort of rag doll.

With no other plan in sight, Angeline thought fast and grabbed a hold of a particularly large shard of glass from her seat. She drove it back, feeling sick as she felt it impale the stranger. He cried out in agony and released her.

The seconds were all Angeline needed to escape out of her window. Panting, Angeline dropped and crouched down by the vehicle, squinting her eyes shut as she heard the gunshots fade out slowly but surely. Soon, only one person was shooting.

Please be Mitch. Please be Mitch. Please be Mitch.

Footsteps came running over and a hand yanked her from the ground. Mitch was glancing all around, his eyes wide. Angeline could only breathe out in relief as he pulled her to her feet, but it was cut short when she caught sight of the massacre around her. About six different men in black suits were lying in pools of their own blood.

The sound of a gun clicking came from inside the car and Mitch whirled around, shooting the man that had tried to drive off with Angeline without a single moment of hesitation. The brunette felt sick as she watched his body slump down into the seats further.

"Fuck," Mitch breathed, "Come on."

He tugged her towards the boot of the car and pried it open, grabbing both their bags. He flung his over his shoulder and began to drag Angeline away.

"M-Mitch," Angeline whimpered.

"Hush," Mitch ordered, "Just follow me right now. You'll be fine."

Angeline really hoped that Mitch was telling the truth. He took off running behind the gas station, his hand never leaving Angeline's wrist. Her ankles ached and burned from the amount of pressure she'd put on the window to break it, but adrenaline allowed her to push on.

Behind the gas station was an alleyway with garages and a small empty car park. Mitch raced through it and they found themselves in a maze of alleys that were behind the houses of a rundown neighbourhood. Angeline's breathing was heavy as they ran for what must have been about ten minutes, finding themselves going down an alley that led out into a field small enough to know it was empty.

Mitch finally released Angeline's wrist. The brunette dropped down onto the floor and threw her head back in a whimper as her hands reached down to hold her aching feet and ankles.

"Where are your shoes?" Mitch demanded, bending down and grasping her ankle, making her cry out in agony. "What? What hurts?"

"I had to kick the window out," Angeline sucked in a breath as his fingers prodded at her ankles, trying to see where it hurt and not. "And I wasn't wearing them in the car."

"Great," Mitch muttered and leaned down to inspect her feet. "They're bleeding."

"We did just pass through the dodgiest alleyways I've seen in my life," Angeline winced as she felt him brush the dirt off with his slender fingers.

"You got spare shoes?" He asked.

Angeline nodded, grabbing her duffel bag and pulling out a pair of white converse.

"I don't have socks, though," Angeline murmured, "A-And these can rub."

Mitch rolled his eyes. "Well then why did you pick those ones? You're running away, not trying to impress your friends."

"Okay, one, I do not dress to impress anyone but myself, and two, I am aware of that Mitch, but when you told me to go pack, I literally had two minutes to shove everything I could into a bag," Angeline rambled at him.

"Yet you still managed to pack your makeup?"

"It's actually just moisturiser, and yes. I get eczema. Priorities," Angeline muttered.

She watched as Mitch shuffled through his belongings, pulling out a pair of white socks. He tossed them at Angeline and she shot him a grateful look as she slipped them over her feet, wincing the whole time.

"Fuck," she hissed, wiggling her toes and grabbing the shoes. "What was that, by the way?"

"Some of your father's men," Mitch said, "They caught up to us. And now we don't have a fucking car and no doubt did I get caught on tape shooting those guys. Irene's going to kill me when she realises she has to keep this out of the media."

Angeline swallowed nervously, not bothering to ask who Irene was. "You can do that? Like, erase information so it doesn't get reported?"

"CIA do it all the time," Mitch replied, watching her struggle with her shoes out of the corner of his eye whilst he zipped his duffel bag back up. "Your father won't want that reported either."

"Oh," Angeline whispered, wincing again as she tried to slip her shoe over her hurt foot.

"Here."

Mitch gently pushed her hands away and kneeled by her feet, pulling them up onto his lap. Angeline was surprised when she felt his hand cup her heel and carefully slip it inside her Converse shoe. He tied them quickly, at a pace Angeline had never seen before. He did the same with the other and then moved her feet from his lap.

"Thank you," she murmured, looking around the desolate field. "Where are we?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Do you know where we are?" She asked instead.

"Of course. We're only about two miles away from that gas station. Which means we need to get moving before anybody else catches up to us," Mitch stated.

"How do we do that without a car?" Angeline asked.

Mitch sighed heavily. "Not easily. It sets us back. Stan's probably working something out right now, though."

Angeline didn't know who Stan was either. She was too tired to ask though. Grabbing her duffel bag, Angeline began to stagger to her feet, flinching as soon as she put all her weight on them. If Mitch had noticed he said nothing.

"Come on," he said, "There are woods back there. We can go through them, hopefully it will bring us out into the rest of the city. And hide us for a while."

Mitch began to head towards them. Angeline bit down on her bottom lip and attempted to convince herself that the pain was all in her own head as she trudged on after him, taking a few moments to pause every now and then, the cuts on her feet hurting too much.

About five minutes in, Mitch turned around to see Angeline about fifty feet away from him, paused in the middle of the field as she rolled her left ankle to try and unstiffen it.

He sighed heavily. "It really hurts that bad?"

"I'm fine," Angeline replied stubbornly, walking over at a slow pace.

As soon as she'd caught up to his paused figure, Mitch grabbed her bag from her and flung it over his own shoulder before he grabbed her too. Angeline squealed as she was pulled bridal style into his arms.

"Mitch!" She gasped.

"I'm not waiting around all day for us to get across this damn field," he grunted in response, walking with her as if it didn't phase him one bit. "When we find somewhere to stay for a bit, I'll get some bandages on your feet or something."

Angeline didn't know what to say, whether she should thank him or not. Now that she wasn't concentrating on walking or the pain, she was forced to focus on what had just happened at the gas station.

How abruptly everything had gone from zero to a hundred. One moment she'd been fine, and the next, seven men were dead and all due to Mitch Rapp.

"Why didn't they just shoot me there and then?" Angeline asked him.

Mitch furrowed his brows. "They're most likely under orders to bring you back to your father. He probably wants to question you, see what you read in those letters in his office."

"Am I allowed to tell you what I read?"

"If you mean the code, then no, Angeline. You shouldn't tell anyone," Mitch replied, "Nobody but the CIA when we get you to your safe house."

"What would happen if... if my dad's opposition got to me first?" Angeline asked somewhat fearfully.

"You mean if they asked you for the codes?" Mitch raised his brows, continuing not to look down at her as his feet moved from grass to dirt tracks, their bodies finally heading through the woods.

Angeline nodded. "Yeah. I wouldn't give them up, obviously. I know what that could mean for people. But I'd get tortured for them, wouldn't I?"

Mitch nodded in confirmation. "You would."

"I wouldn't give them up, Mitch, truly," Angeline promised him quietly, as if she thought he didn't believe her. "I know I'd have to let them kill me first."

Mitch's face seemed to hesitate. "Yeah..." His voice was barely above a murmur. "It's the right thing to do."

She sighed as everything went silent for a moment or two. "Thank you. For saving my life. Again."

Mitch pursed his lips. "Just doing my job, Angeline. Just... doing my job."


	19. Chapter 19

Angeline took a deep breath, finding herself not too fond of the damp scent of the woods. Morning had bled into midday and the sun was high above, although they were shielded by the tall trees surrounding them. About an hour ago, they'd stopped so Mitch could properly assess Angeline's feet and she was now walking by herself beside the slightly older man.

"Angeline, do you think we could quicken the pace a little?"

She glared up at Mitch. "No."

He sighed heavily but made no further comments. They trudged along in silence, every step dirtying Angeline's white Converse even further. She thought being stuck in a motel room with Mitch had been bad, but this was far worse. They weren't bickering, in fact, they hadn't spoken at all, but all Angeline wanted to do was sit down and process everything that had just happened.

"Where are we going, exactly?" Angeline wondered out loud.

"Somewhere I can plug my laptop into," Mitch replied, "I need to contact my superior. ASAP."

"For a new car?"

"Yes."

Mitch marched along, slowing down every time he moved too quickly and remembered Angeline was struggling. It felt like an eternity has passed before they made it to a gate that led out into what appeared to be a playground. He pushed open the gate and slipped on a pair of sunglasses, warning Angeline to do the same.

"I didn't want us to be so out in public, but I guess there's nothing we can do about it," Mitch muttered.

It was a Thursday at about 12 pm, so the playground was only filled with younger children and a few dog walkers who strolled by, not even sparing Mitch and Angeline a second glance. He grabbed a hoodie out of his bag and flung it over to her.

Angeline hauled it on over the dress she was wearing, pulling the hoodie over her head. It smelt just like him and was oddly reassuring in a way.

They walked past the park and made it to the main road, cars whizzing by quickly. Mitch seemed not to like how overt they were, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and brought her into his chest as they got to some traffic lights.

"We need to act like we're together," Mitch muttered lowly, "Less people will stare."

After a couple of seconds of contemplating Mitch's words, Angeline wrapped her arm around his torso to hold him on the other side as they waited for the light to go red. As soon as it did, Mitch grabbed her hand, his long fingers intertwining with hers.

"Just don't even look at anybody else."

Across the road was what looked like a small village area. There were a few drugstores, a pharmacist, some high street clothing brands. Angeline was barely paying attention when Mitch led them over to a cafe.

"Go sit over there. In that corner," Mitch ordered in her ear as they moved to the queue. "Just grab your book out."

Angeline didn't protest but did as she was told. Minutes later, Mitch arrived with a black coffee and, much to her surprise, a caramel one for her— just like she had always liked. She thanked him and began to sip at her drink whilst Mitch opened up his laptop, plugging it into the wall nearby.

He started to type, his eyes only occasionally looking up when someone walked nearby. Angeline tried to read her book, but she couldn't really focus knowing that her father really was looking for her. It still felt like she could feel that man's hands on her shoulders, trying to keep her in the car.

If it came down to it, Angeline didn't know if she would rather die at the hands of her own father or be tortured to death by her father's opposition. Either way, she was pretty sure that he would be her downfall, and she blamed him entirely. Angeline hated her father with every fibre of her being.

Maybe Mitch would be able to get her to this safe house in time, and then maybe he and his team would be able to get rid of both Mr Lewis and Mr Williams. She hoped he would be able to. She didn't feel like being tortured all too much.

"Mitch?" Angeline murmured quietly, gaining the attention of the man.

"Hm?"

"Has my dad reported me missing? Or does nobody know?" Angeline asked him. 

"I don't know what Mr Lewis is telling everybody, but your disappearance hasn't made news yet," Mitch replied, eyes shifting back to his screen before they lit up. "Come on."

He scooped up his laptop and shoved it into his bag, hauling it over his shoulder. Angeline stood up too, tucking her chair back under the table when Mitch grabbed her and began to walk quickly through the cafe. They were heading for the bathrooms.

"Mitch—"

"Shut up," he hissed.

Angeline craned her head over her neck as he led her out into the small hallway in the back, seeing that some men in suits were heading over to the counter, wallets in their hands that they were showing the baristas. She could only assume that there was a picture inside, probably of her.

She didn't wait around to see if the baristas pointed over to the table that she and Mitch had been sitting at. She let Mitch drag her into the bathrooms, a sigh of relief leaving him when he saw an opened window near the ceiling.

"This town is probably crawling with your father's men," Mitch muttered bitterly, working quickly to toss both their bags out of the window. "They know we couldn't have gone too far. Come here."

He waved her towards him and Angeline quickly obeyed, his arms wrapping around her waist. Her breath hitched as he picked her up and pushed her towards the window. She caught on quickly and made it through, a yelp leaving her lips as she slipped down and outside, finding herself in another alleyway surrounded by the cafe's bins. Her ankles burned more.

She moved out the way as soon as she heard Mitch coming through the window, his body coming out the other end with far more preservation than hers did. She hauled up their bags and passed Mitch's to him before he grabbed her arm and they took off.

Running again.

"Come on, come on, come on," Mitch kept muttering, craning his neck around left and right, his jawline becoming much more predominant as Angeline gazed up at his tall figure.

"What are you looking for?" She thought maybe she could help him and speed up the process. The sooner they got out of this bloody town, the better.

"That."

It was a large stone archway that had 'Kingsley's Parking Lot' written above it. Angeline frowned in confusion but jogged with him until they got inside, watching as Mitch craned his neck around again. Her eyes landed on sleek black Audi with tinted windows, and she tugged at his hand.

"Is that what you're looking for?"

Mitch breathed out in relief and squeezed Angeline's shoulder before taking off towards it. He moved to one of the back wheels and bent down, grabbing a key out from underneath it. Angeline raised her brows, wondering how Mitch's boss had been able to arrange something so fast until she remembered he worked for the CIA.

"Get in," he ordered, "Quick."

As soon as Angeline was on the passenger side, she flung her bag onto the backseat and buckled up, not even getting the chance to actually sit back properly before Mitch had taken off and out of the car park. He grabbed his seatbelt with one hand as he drove through the long roads they had just spent ages walking down, slowly putting it on whilst keeping his gaze on the road ahead.

"We're not stopping tonight, Angeline," Mitch told her in a warning. "We need to get as far away from here as possible. Throw them off our scent, even. We can only assume that if your father's in tow with us, that means your father's opposition is only one more step behind."

Angeline shuddered at the idea, the leather seat around her feeling cold against her skin. She pulled Mitch's hoodie closer to her body and tucked her sunglasses up onto her head, finding that the world was a lot clearer without them on. And a whole lot drearier too.

"We've come close too many times today," Mitch murmured, "If this tells you anything, Angeline, it's that you should trust me when I tell you that you need to start taking this more seriously."

Angeline nodded timidly, looking back out of the window. She felt sort of sick, thinking about what all of this meant. Her father was so desperate to shut her up that he wanted her dead. He probably wanted to do it himself too. Maybe he'd drag it on, maybe he'd just put a bullet straight through her head.

She seemed to be able to anger him quite easily, just like everybody else. Memories of a few weeks ago when he'd basically body-slammed her onto the dining room floor for talking back to him filled her brain and she felt disgusted with the man that had brought her up.

"You're being quiet," Mitch hummed after a while. "It's unsettling."

"I'm scared," Angeline finally admitted softly. "And I'm sorry I've been such a pain in the arse. I suppose... I didn't want to believe the intensity of the situation before today. I wanted to believe that my father still... I don't know."

"Loved you?" Mitch finished for her.

"No." Angeline shook her head. "He never loved me. He doesn't even love Elliot. He's just obsessed with the money. But Elliot complied. I never would. That's why I'm the only one out of the two of us that ever realised what a... what a fucking cunt that man really is."

"It impressed me every time you stood up to him," Mitch admitted, "Of course, I don't think you knew who you were really standing up against, but nevertheless, I was impressed."

Angeline raised her eyebrows. "I'll tell you a secret, yeah? I was scared of him. I never said half of the things I actually wanted to."

"Well, let's just hope we both make it out alive. Then you can tell your father how much of a fucking cunt he is."

Angeline grinned. That sounded like a good plan.

...

It was early morning. So early that the sky was still pitch black and there were barely any other cars on the road. Mitch was looking more tired as the hours passed on, and Angeline had already woken up from her third nap since they had gotten the new car.

"Mitch?" She called quietly above the engine in the silent night. "Do you want me to drive?"

Mitch scoffed. "That's highly inappropriate. Besides, you're not allowed to know where we are, where you're going, nothing. And I don't trust you to spot something suspicious."

"Fine," Angeline huffed, "Try not to fall asleep at the wheel, then."

"I've stayed awake for over seventy-two hours before. I think I can handle driving through the night," Mitch replied coolly, leaving Angeline silent in her seat.

She pulled her legs up and curled her arms around them, yanking her shoes off to give her injured feet a breather. Closing her eyes, Angeline tried to settle into another sleep, hoping this time she might actually stay asleep for more than an hour. Her body was exhausted, her eyelids weighing down in protest of her active mind.

Her last thoughts were of Ciara and Paige before she drifted off.

When Angeline's eyes opened again, the sky was much brighter than it had been before. Realising that she had actually been able to get more than one hour's shuteye, Angeline smiled a little to herself and lifted her head slightly from the window. It took a split second for her to realise that the car wasn't moving, and then another for her to realise that Mitch wasn't in the car.

The door was wide open and they were pulled over on the side of a road. It was most likely the cold air that had actually woken her up in the first place. For a second or two, Angeline sat there in silence, shock flooding her system at the fact that Mitch was nowhere to be seen. Then, panic settled.

"Mitch?" She called anxiously, her fingers quickly pushing the button to her seatbelt and releasing her.

Angeline scrambled to open the door, her eyes wide as she peered around at the empty road surrounded by nothing but trees. There was no reply from the shaggy-haired man. Her heart began to pound in her chest, and not just because she had been stranded alone-- but because Angeline was scared something had happened to him.

"M-Mitch?" Angeline cried, "Mitch!"

Suddenly, someone came rushing out of the trees and Angeline's entire body sagged in relief at the sight of Mitch there. He looked exhausted, but nevertheless, he was there-- and he was fine. Without thinking much, Angeline flung her arms around the man and hugged him tight, pulling away just as quickly to punch him in the arm.

"What? What happened?" Mitch frowned.

"You left me!" Angeline snapped, "I thought something had happened to you or something!"

"Well, chill. I was just taking a piss," Mitch shrugged, watching her grimace. "Awh. Were you worried about me, Angel?"

His teasing tone and the use of her own nickname against her had her rolling her eyes in frustration. Angeline sent one last punch to his arm, knowing it wouldn't phase the man. Mitch grabbed her wrist and turned her around, facing towards the car. Her back was against his chest for a second before he pushed her forward gently, towards the vehicle.

"In the car, Angeline," Mitch said lightly, "And watch where you tread. You still haven't got shoes on."


	20. Chapter 20

Mitch wasn't lying when he said he could stay awake for an excessively long time. She wasn't sure how, but he'd been awake for over twenty four hours now. He'd stopped driving a few times for breaks, but never longer than an hour before they were on the road again.

Angeline was half way through her book when she realised the car was coming to a slow stop. Her eyes widened as she realised they were outside a relatively large house. She was slightly confused considering all she had seen for the past hour had been trees, trees and more trees.

Her breath hitched. "Is this it?" She asked, "is this the safe house?"

"No." Mitch shook his head. "It's a safe house of sorts, but not the one you're going to."

He unbuckled his seatbelt and Angeline frowned in confusion. "Then why are we here?"

"To rest. Only for a day or two. Then we're back on the road," Mitch said, "We can't keep staying in those motels, there's too much CCTV. Nobody knows this place exists, though. It's private-- CIA owns it."

Angeline said nothing as she copied Mitch's actions, unbuckling her own seatbelt and climbing out of the car. The air was slightly chilly and smelt of all of the trees surrounding them. It was different to being by a Californian beach, where the air was mostly always warm and the sea provided some fresh saltiness that reminded Angeline why she had chosen to live there instead of London with her mother.

Now, she was wishing she had picked London. No matter how dreary and cold and depressing it could be in comparison to the way that they sold it to the rest of the world.

Mitch was handing her her duffel bag before she could even close the door and she realised that she had zoned out. He sent her a pointed look-- the same one that meant 'stay alert', and he slung his own duffel bag over his broad shoulder before heading towards the house. Angeline noticed a few other cars parked in the huge driveway, tinted windows and all.

Before she could even ask, Mitch explained it to her. "There are other agents here."

He moved to the door and pressed his pointer finger against what looked like a pressure sensor, a red light scanning from underneath. There was the sound of a door unlocking and Mitch grabbed the handle, yanking it open and stepping inside. Angeline followed.

"You need fingerprint access?" Angeline asked curiously.

Mitch nodded.

"What if somebody cut off your finger and then unlocked the door with it?" She asked.

"Then that would be very unfortunate," he replied, "Although, there was a camera tracking my eyes, too-- so they would need them as well."

Angeline frowned. She hadn't seen any cameras. Although, she guessed if this place was for the CIA then they most likely had the best of the best technology and security systems. It made her feel safer as she entered the foyer, her head craning to look around at the staircase and the doors leading into other rooms of the house.

It was nowhere near as big as the house her father had owned, but it was still big. She was about to ask Mitch about the other agents staying there when they heard footsteps coming from the kitchen. A man walked in, a gun pointed to them.

"Relax." Mitch rolled his eyes, hands up in defence. "It's just me."

Angeline was as still as a statue as she waited for him to lower his gun, which the man eventually did. He was probably about ten years older than Mitch, in his early thirties, and he was just as tall and muscular. His skin was quite pale as if he didn't go out that much and he had dark hair and light eyes.

"You must be Angeline Lewis," the man spoke, his voice quivering a little.

Angeline frowned-- he sounded like he was scared. "Ur, yes. Nice to meet you."

The man swallowed harshly. "Yes. Zimmerman."

The teenage girl was a little confused until she realised that was his last name. She sent him an awkward nod, uncomfortable in his presence as he continued to stare down at her. His hand was still holding his gun, which made her a little nervous. She moved closer to Mitch.

"We're only stopping here for two days max," Mitch said, "Who else is here?"

"Just me," Zimmerman said, "It's been just me for about a week now."

"Okay," Mitch murmured, giving a small nod. "I'm taking Angeline upstairs and I'm going to find her a room and then show her around. Okay?"

"Y-Yes, Rapp," Zimmerman replied.

Mitch's hand moved to the small of Angeline's back and he slowly directed her towards the stairs, making sure she went up them first. Angeline was slightly confused and even startled by the other man in the house, but she didn't make her nerves known until they were in the upstairs hallway.

"He has severe PTSD and some over psychological stuff," Mitch explained to her, Angeline's mouth parting in realisation. "His family were targeted after he managed to take down a smaller terrorist organisation in France. Hasn't worked since. Stan, the guy who owns this place, lets him stay here."

"That's... awful," Angeline murmured.

"Yeah. Just don't get too close to him, okay? Guy's a bit tetchy nowadays. He was paranoid before, it's only amped that side of him up by about a million," Mitch said slowly, as if slightly concerned that Zimmerman was listening to them.

Angeline didn't say anything but followed Mitch a couple feet down where he flung open one of the doors, revealing a bedroom. The bed was made and there was barely anything inside. It looked far more sanitary than any of the motels that they had been staying in and Angeline nearly sighed in relief.

"This will be your room," Mitch said, "That one--" he pointed to the door right next to hers. "Is mine. If anything is wrong, knock. If I'm not in there, call for me-- I'll hear you. Unless I'm down in the gym. That's under the house, I'll show you where that is in a second."

Angeline wandered into the room and placed her bag onto the bed. There was a window that showed the driveway and she watched as the grey clouds above began to spit rain. She furrowed her brows.

"I only brought summer clothes, by the way," she said.

Mitch's face scrunched up. "Huh?"

"The clothes in my bag. They're all for summer," Angeline elaborated as if he was stupid.

"Why?" Mitch huffed. "Did you not pick up a single jumper?"

"Well, I would have, but I grabbed whatever was first in my wardrobe, and that was my summer clothes. I was beginning to transition to autumn because October's next week--"

"October starts tomorrow," Mitch deadpanned and Angeline realised she'd somehow lost track of time, even if she'd only been on the run with Mitch for about five days.

"Awh, it's been a month two days ago since we've known each other, then," Angeline grinned sarcastically at him, making Mitch roll his eyes. "No, but seriously. I could do with some... warmer clothes or something."

"I'll sort something out," Mitch huffed, "Anything else, your highness?"

"Yeah. I'll take that house tour now, thanks."

...

"What are you doing?"

Angeline's head craned up to face Mitch who had just entered the dining room. He was in a black tank top and grey gym shorts, a wet towel flung over his shoulder and his hair slightly damp from sweat. He carried a water bottle in his spare hand, taking a sip as he looked down at her.

"Drawing," Angeline gestured towards the pages of art in front of her. "Not much else to do. It's kind of therapeutic, too. You should try it."

"You have four incomplete drawings in front of you," Mitch acknowledged as he hovered behind her, scanning her work. "But... they're pretty good."

"Thanks," Angeline beamed before she sighed a little. "I just can't focus on one drawing at a time, though. I get bored too easily and other ideas spring into my head."

"What are you drawing right now?" He asked, realising that she had started something new, only a few lines on her blank page.

"Ciara's dog," Angeline hummed, her pencil scratching away. "I miss her dog."

Mitch knew that meant I miss Ciara.

"You'll get to see Ciara's dog again," Mitch said quietly, and Angeline felt her heart skip a beat and her throat tighten. "I promise."

"You shouldn't promise," Angeline said.

"I mean it." Mitch's large hand clamped down on her shoulder. "It's my job to make sure that you survive this, Angeline."

It messed with Angeline's head a little bit to think that if she had just complied to her father and joined the family business then his job would be the exact opposite of that. She gave a wavering smile, despite the fact that he was behind her. Maybe it was to convince herself.

She heard his footsteps retreat and sighed, peering down at her drawing. Suddenly, she was bored of Ciara's dog who she truly had fallen in love with over the years of their friendship. She tossed it aside like the other pieces, grabbing another sheet of paper.

Hours later, as it began to grow dark outside, the rain started to lash down against the windows. Angeline had found herself sitting in the living room, curled up on the sofa by the glass. Her eyes landed on two droplets and she silently decided that the right one would trickle downwards towards the pane outside the fastest. After a couple of seconds, the left raindrop won, making her roll her eyes and huff quietly.

"Angeline," someone whispered right next to her, making her shriek in surprise.

Her heart was pounding rapidly, her brown eyes wide as she stared at Zimmerman. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip and he remained inches away from her. He barely looked startled at her reaction, simply blinking.

"Dinner is ready," Zimmerman said.

"Why-- Why did you creep up on me like that?" Angeline glared, holding her hand on her chest just as Mitch came running in, pistol in his hand.

He sighed and tucked it away as soon as he saw Zimmerman close to Angeline. He pushed the other agent away gently and held his hand out to Angeline. She took it, moving as close to him as possible as he pulled her away from Zimmerman.

"Angeline, I told you--"

"He made me jump!" Angeline complained, watching Zimmerman who was staring right back at her, his left eye twitching slightly.

"Dinner is ready," Mitch repeated Zimmerman's words with another heavy sigh.

Minutes later, Angeline found herself sitting around a table with Mitch and the strange man, her fork stabbing into the chicken as Zimmerman played with the sweetcorn on his plate. Mitch was the only one who seemed to be hungry, shovelling his food down like it would disappear otherwise.

Angeline ended up eating her chicken and her sweetcorn before Mitch stood and moved to the kitchen to clear his plate away. She glared at his back as he left, angry for leaving her alone with Zimmerman who was now staring at her again. She understood there was something wrong with him, but it was creeping her out and she couldn't stomach her fries.

She sat there for a few moments, staring back at him. It was more tense than it was awkward. There was definitely something going on behind Zimmerman's eyes-- he had something to say, she knew. Angeline moved to go and take her plate back when he whispered her name again.

"What?" She asked, turning to face him.

"I didn't say anything," Zimmerman replied glumly.

Shaking her head, Angeline took her plate into the kitchen and found Mitch washing his up. She emptied her leftovers into the bin and he grabbed it from her, dunking it into the hot, soapy water. Without saying anything, she grasped the tea towel off of the side and began to dry Mitch's clean plate.

"He freaks you out, doesn't he?" Mitch said quietly.

Angeline nodded. "He won't stop staring."

"Yeah, he's like that."

"Can I go down to the gym?" She asked as she dried the utensils next.

"Yeah, course," Mitch murmured, moving her own clean plate onto the dish rack. "You can wash your clothes whilst we're here too."

At that, a huge grin crossed Angeline's face. She'd been biting her tongue for a couple of days now in order to prevent the usual 'brat' comments, but this was a result.

"Just put anything you want washed on your bed. I'll deal with it."

"Thanks, Mitch."

...

Angeline easily found the gym that Mitch had shown her earlier, throwing her towel over the staircase and moving over to the treadmill. It felt like all she had been doing for the past week was sitting around and waiting for something to happen-- other than just over twenty-four hours ago when she'd been attacked at the gas station and they'd had to run for miles.

Angeline worked until sweat was trickling down the sides of her face, her legs aching and her lungs pleading with her to stop. Her feet still slightly hurt from where she'd hurt them before, but it was becoming more and more of a dull pain the longer and harder she pushed herself.

It was releasing a week's worth of tension and frustration, her heart pounding for something other than fear. She kept turning the speed up, challenging herself and gritting her teeth whenever one side of her brain told her to give it a rest.

She only stopped about twenty minutes later when the stitch in her side was too intense to ignore. Groaning, Angeline switched off the machine and stepped away, her legs feeling like jelly as she reached for her water bottle. The dark-haired girl downed more than half of it before she grabbed her towel, dabbing her face with it and then the back of her neck.

"You're pretty fast," Zimmerman's voice said, Angeline's heart skipping a beat.

She hadn't even heard him come to the bottom of the stairs. She gripped her water bottle tighter, remembering how Mitch had told her before that he wouldn't hear her if he was in the gym.

"Thanks," she said.

Angeline felt bad for being scared of him, considering he couldn't help being mentally ill, but there was something inside of her... something that told her that she should be wary of him. Angeline swore to listen to her instincts when it came to strangers-- particularly male strangers.

"Do you... run?" She asked, eyeing up the staircase behind him.

"I used to..." Zimmerman replied, a distant look in his eye as he started at the spot behind Angeline. "I used to do a lot of things. Now I am stuck here."

"I'm sorry," Angeline whispered, unsure what else to say. "I was about to head back up, actually."

"Oh."

Zimmerman moved aside, giving her enough room to go back up the stairs. Angeline forced a smile in his direction and then walked up the stairs, picking up her speed and not waiting to see if he was following her. She made it to her temporary bedroom and cursed, realising that all of her clothes were in the wash.

Angeline found Mitch's bedroom and knocked. The door swung open and Mitch glanced down at her, a pair of pyjama bottoms on and his chest bare. Angeline forced herself to glance up into his eyes, craning her neck from her lack of height.

"All my clothes are in the wash," she said, "And I am not sleeping naked before you make some sarcastic comment."

Mitch smirked. "You know me so well."

He moved into his room and over to his duffel bag, grabbing out a black tee and tossing it towards her. Angeline caught it effortlessly.

"Although you are a dumbass for putting all of your clothes in the wash," he added.

"I..." Angeline had nothing to say. It was pretty stupid of her. "Whatever. Thanks for the shirt."

"Yeah, yeah..."

Angeline closed the door behind her and moved into her bedroom, shutting the door and locking it. After taking a hot shower and drying her hair off, she slipped into the black tee that Mitch had given her and was thankful that it smelt clean. Her tired eyes moved around the room and she switched the light off, climbing into the bed.

From her position propped up against the pillows, she could see there was a full moon outside. Dozens of stars twinkled around it and Angeline sought comfort in the fact that Ciara and Paige were also sleeping under the very same sky right now.

...

"Mitch, come here!"

Mitch groaned, unplugging his earphones. His music immediately drowned out and now all he could hear were kids screeching and people laughing and splashing in the ocean nearby. The sunshine was hot on his body as he turned to face his mother who was sitting up on her sunbed, a sunscreen bottle in her hands and her sunglasses half-hanging off of her button nose.

"You're burning, honey, let me put some sunscreen on you," Mrs Rapp said.

Mitch rolled his hazel eyes. "I can do it myself, mom."

"Milly, pass your brother the sunscreen for me, he's being stubborn," his mother huffed.

Milly, Mitch's younger sister by a year, glared at Mitch and grabbed the sunscreen bottle from their mother, practically shoving it into Mitch's hands. He glared back at his sister before squeezing some out and beginning to half-heartedly rub it across his chest and shoulders. Mitch's dad sat on the other side of him, snoring away despite all of the racket going on around him.

He wished he could have just stayed home. He was going to university next week-- he wanted to be packing and skating in the park he'd grown up in, not on some family vacation to Spain. His sister didn't want to be there either-- she had her head buried in her phone just as much as Mitch did his.

However, their parents had made them. His mother insisted it would be nice since they'd never been abroad before, and also it was their last week with Mitch before he went away. Every time a kid screamed, Mitch swore he could bash his head against the sun bed.

"Maybe you two should take a swim," Mrs Rapp suggested, trying to liven the mood a little. "It looks amazing."

Mitch knew he wasn't going to be able to relax with his mother pestering him. Either it was 'put more sunscreen on' or 'why don't you go and try and make some friends around the pool, Mitch?' He desperately wished his mother would understand he was nineteen at the end of October and he didn't need her constantly babying him.

"Mom, I'm tanning," Milly complained.

"You can still tan when you're swimming."

"Come on, Mills," Mitch huffed, "Let's just get this over and done with."

"Thank you, Mitch," Mrs Rapp breathed a sigh of relief. "At last all of the money we spent on this vacation may actually be going towards something fun."

Mitch rolled his eyes when she wasn't looking but stood from the sun bed. He kicked off his flip flops, his bare feet burning on the golden sand beneath him. He faintly heard Milly muttering under her breath from behind as she followed him towards the sea, something about their mother and how annoying she was.

"Don't talk about her like that," Mitch said as soon as they got to the edge of the ocean.

He was grateful to learn that the water was warm as he began to walk into it, Milly beside him. She scoffed loudly at his words.

"As if you haven't been rolling your eyes behind her back every two minutes," Milly muttered.

"Yeah, well, she just wants us to have fun. She still thinks we're kids or whatever," Mitch excused his mother.

"This whole trip is just 'cause she's gonna miss you when you go to college," Milly stated, "She doesn't even want you to go. She thinks you should just join the family business with dad."

"I am not laying bricks for a living," Mitch groaned, "And she understands that. She just..."

Mitch glanced around, frowning in confusion when he heard screams come from the beach. He was nearly shoulder-deep in the sea, his hazel eyes squinting to see what was happening by the shore. Suddenly, there was a loud gunshot, followed by screams of pure terror from all across the beach.

"Milly!" Mitch boomed, "Milly, we have to get to mom and dad."

"What the fuck?" Milly cried, "Mitch, what the--"

"Come on!" He roared, his heart pounding in his chest as he grabbed his little sister's arm, pulling her towards the shore.

More and more gunshots were going off, adults and children screaming and running everywhere. Mitch saw his mother at the edge of the sea, tears streaming down her face as she cupped her hands over her mouth and yelled their names.

He was sure the vision would be burned in his brain forever as the woman who had raised him was shot three times. He swore he could see daylight on the other side as his mother dropped forwards, landing face-down into the ocean. Mitch yelled whilst Milly screamed, the two of them picking up their pace.

"Mom!" Milly was wailing as they rushed for her body. "Mom, please--"

"Milly, we- we gotta go," Mitch was sobbing too, his heart pounding frantically as he gripped his younger sister, tugging her away from their mother's dead body. "Where- where's dad?"

"Dad!" Milly screamed, but her words just blended with the dozens of others looking for family members.

"Dad!" Mitch yelled, his heart stopping when he saw their father on the ground, a bullet wound in his head. "Fuck."

He gagged, turning away and steering Milly before she had the chance to see him. Milly was desperately trying to ask him what was wrong, why they were heading away from where they had been sat, but Mitch could barely speak. A body dropped near them and Mitch saw one of the men with a gun aiming at them next.

"Milly!" He yelled, grabbing his sister and chucking them behind a bar.

A few other people were huddled behind it, sobbing or on the phone to either loved ones or the police. Mitch breathed quickly, thinking they'd managed to make the luckiest escape of all time when he felt something hot and wet on his hand. Looking down, Mitch was horrified to realise his sister's hand was covered in blood.

"Mills..."

Milly whimpered, pulling her other hand away from her stomach to reveal a wound. He would never forget the way she peered up at him, her matching hazel eyes shining with tears as if to ask him for reassurance.

"You're going to be fine," Mitch blurted, tears dripping from his own eyes. "Milly, you're going to be fine. We're both going... fuck!" He could barely speak anymore.

Milly cried out, clenching her eyes shut. "It hurts, Mitch."

"Apply pressure!" An older man hissed, tossing Mitch a towel.

Mitch barely looked at the man but pressed the towel to his sister's stomach, making her whimper louder. Her blood was all over his hands as he looked around, waiting for instructions from someone else. They were all looking at him sympathetically and he choked. There was nothing else that he could do.

He waited for the gunshots to stop. He waited for the screams and cries and whimpers to die out, but they didn't. He could hear children screaming for their parents, husbands for their wives. All sorts of accents, dozens of languages, all types of pain.

"Someone's coming!" Hissed the woman who had been peering through a gap in the bar.

People began to dart over the over side of the bar, running as fast as they could. Mitch pulled his hands away from the towel on his sister's stomach, nudging his shoulder to get her to lift her head when he realised how heavy she felt. Her chest wasn't rising, her eyes weren't opening.

"No!" Mitch howled, his heart dropping completely. "No! No! Milly!"

His screams barely drowned out the gunshots that drew closer. His heart had snapped into two, watching the last of his family get murdered. Mitch tried shaking her shoulders, he tried to wake her back up, but the tan she was working on had been pointless- she already looked so lifeless.

Mitch felt it before he heard anything. A bullet to the shoulder. It flung him backwards slightly by the force, his hands slipping away from his sister. He grunted, calling her name again when another bullet lodged itself into his stomach. Mitch dropped to the ground, tears leaking down as he found himself lying next to his sister's body.

"Milly..." He sobbed.

"Mitch!"

"Mitch wake up!"

He lurched awake, a scream tumbling past his lips. Hands were suddenly on his shoulders and he looked into familiar brown eyes, startled to see how concerned they looked. His chest heaved and he whimpered, nearly gasping in surprise when Angeline reached a hand out and cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing away a tear that had fallen.

"Mitch..." Her voice broke. "Mitch, you're okay. It was just a dream--"

"No it wasn't!" Mitch pushed her hand away. "No it fucking wasn't!"

Angeline's heart skipped a beat as she moved backwards, away from him. Sweat glistened on his skin and he looked paler than usual, small pants still leaving his lips.

"Do you want to talk--"

"No!" Mitch yelled, "No, I don't want to fucking talk about it. Not with you. Especially not with you."

Angeline had to pretend that that didn't sting a little. She sent him a hurt look as she left the room and Mitch cursed himself, punching the wall beside him. His fist went straight through it and stung like a bitch, but it momentarily gave himself something else to think about rather than the bodies of his family still fresh in his mind.

Seconds later, Mitch's jaw clenched as Angeline wandered back inside, holding a glass of water. Her hand was trembling a little and he realised that he had probably scared her, the guilt eating at his stomach as he accepted it.

She watched him as he gulped it down, a saddened expression written across her face.

"Don't look at me like that," he spat, "Don't look at me like I'm some sort of lost cause to be sympathised with. Why are you even in here?"

"I could hear you," Angeline whispered, "You were crying."

"No-- No, I wasn't," Mitch snapped.

"It's okay to cry, you know," Angeline said softly, "It's actually a stress reliever."

"Fuck off with the psychology shit," he muttered, "Don't you think I've heard it all before?"

It was that that made Angeline realise that his dream had been less of a nightmare and more of a reality-- something that had happened to him before. She frowned.

"I--"

"Go to your room," he suddenly boomed, making her flinch. "Just leave me alone, Angeline."

Her heart stopped and she was nearly frozen, terrified of how much he had managed to sound like her father. She took a step back and then managed to snap herself out of it, turning on her heel and leaving for real this time, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

Mitch whimpered and buried his face into his hands.

Fuck.

....


	21. Chapter 21

Angeline slept with her door locked that night, but her ears open for Mitch. She heard him go downstairs at one point and she waited and waited and waited for him to come back. He did about an hour later, breathing heavily. She assumed he had gone down to the gym to release some stress.

Still, she continued to listen, worried she'd hear him start whimpering and crying in his sleep again. Angeline must have stayed awake for at least another hour before she drifted off, her body far too comfortable in a bed that wasn't as crappy as the ones in all of the motels she'd been in recently.

When she woke, Angeline took a shower before making her way down to the kitchen. She was glad to find that it was empty as she grabbed a box of cereal from the side and looked through a bunch of cabinets until she found a bowl and a spoon, preparing herself one of the blandest breakfasts ever. It seemed like there was nothing unhealthy in the house-- nothing with flavour.

"You're up late."

Angeline craned her head over her shoulder to see Mitch standing in the doorway of the dining room. He had even more sweat on him than yesterday and he was in his gym clothes again, which was strange, because she swore he had already gone down there after his nightmare last night.

"Yeah," Angeline mumbled, shovelling some cereal into her mouth.

So that was the game he was going to play? He was just going to pretend that she didn't find him having one of the worst night terrors that Angeline had ever seen in her life? He'd woken up screaming and he'd been crying a girl's name...

Milly.

Angeline wondered who Milly was. Had he been a girlfriend of Mitch's? A friend? A family relative perhaps? Either way, she knew whatever had happened to the girl, Mitch had seen again in his dream last night. He'd made it very clear that she was the last person he wanted to talk to it about.

"Your clothes are clean in the dryer and you have some warmer stuff on the way. We'll have to stay here an extra day so Irene can send them in time," Mitch grumbled, rolling his neck and causing a cracking sound.

Angeline didn't reply but nodded, consuming more of her bland cereal.

"Look. Don't get all quiet on me again just because I put you in your place last night. You shouldn't have come into my room and you should have left me alone," Mitch snapped suddenly.

Glaring down at her bowl, Angeline gripped her spoon and then looked back up at him. "I thought something was wrong with you! You were crying and yelling. You needed help!"

"I don't need anything from you," Mitch spat, "You need me, not the other way round."

Angeline scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You're such an arsehole."

"And you're such a whiny bitch," Mitch growled back. "All you do is complain when you don't get your way."

"You know what that sounds like, Mitch? That sounds like toxic masculinity. You're so upset that you actually showed emotion for once that you're blaming it all on me and making it out like I'm in the wrong for wanting to make sure you weren't fucking dying or something--"

Mitch was in front of her within seconds, grabbing her by the stool and spinning it around so that she was sitting practically between his legs. His minty breath was on her and she could see his skin shining with sweat now.

"You know what would have happened if I was actually dying?" Mitch snapped, "You'd be dead too. If something had been wrong with me, if your father or his opposition had caught up and were killing me in that room, then you would've had to run, Angeline. You would have been taken and tortured until you were dead if I had actually been dying last night."

"But you weren't, you were having a nightmare--"

Mitch grabbed her by the jaw. "Listen to me!" He bellowed, Angeline's breath catching in her throat. "You don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about. You think you know what you're saying, but you don't know anything Angeline--"

Her fists pounded against his chest and she kicked him away from her from where she was on the seat still. Her eyes were brimming with tears and her face was scrunched up.

"Fuck off!" She continued to try and punch him in the chest, standing up now, but Mitch was grabbing her wrists with each half-hearted swing. "You sound more and more like my father every single fucking day, Mitch. I hate you! I actually fucking hate you."

"Yeah, and I hate you too," Mitch growled.

Angeline swallowed thickly and tore her wrist from his grip, lifting her hand higher this time and smacking Mitch around the face. His head snapped to the side slightly, the pain vibrating off of Angeline's own palm as she took a deep breath, feeling like she had finally managed to settle some of her frustration with him.

However, as soon as she began to lower her arm, his much larger hand struck out to grab her by the throat, her body being forced against the wall behind her as his lips pressed to hers. Angeline gasped into his mouth, her hands finding his hair and tugging immediately. One of his hands remained around her throat, the other holding her waist so tight it was nearly painful.

He kissed her like his intention was to bruise her lips, as if pouring all of his hatred into her. And Angeline did the same-- with each lock of the lips or turn of the head, she attempted to reaffirm her words in her head-- I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

Mitch's thigh moved between hers to pin her to the wall as he removed his hand from his neck, attaching his lips there instead. Shuddering, Angeline's nails scraped at his back, slightly pulling up the tank top that he was wearing whilst he sucked and nibbled at her flesh. Small, breathy moans escaped her lips, her brown eyes fluttering shut.

"You're a brat," he hissed in her ear as he pulled away, watching her whimper. "I've said it once and I'll say it a million times."

"Please," Angeline begged, "Say it again."

Mitch's eyes darkened and his hand was back against her neck, his leg grinding purposely into her heat, drawing out another breathy moan. He tilted her head, forcing her to look into his eyes. 

"You fucking like it, don't you?" Mitch hissed, "You get off on being called a brat? Let me guess, you like slut too?"

Angeline struggled not to moan. The word was deep and husky coming from Mitch, and it made her entire body feel like it was on fire. She didn't even have to verbally answer for Mitch to know the truth. He smirked, shaking his head.

"Mitch, please--"

"Please what?" He snapped, "Tell me exactly what you want Angeline."

"Want you to make me cum," she breathed.

"I think that can be arranged," Mitch whispered against her neck, pecking her there again.

Angeline groaned as Mitch flipped her around, her face and body pressing against the wall. His large hand moved from her waist and up her body, finding her long hair. He tugged it, forcing her head backwards. He backed up against her and Angeline felt his erection press against her, a mischievous smirk crossing her face that he couldn't see.

"You feel me?" Mitch muttered, "You feel what you do to me, Angeline? When you walk around in nothing but my t-shirt and the smallest pair of shorts you own?"

Angeline bit her lip.

"Turn back around," he ordered.

She did as she was told and Mitch grabbed her by the waist, hauling her up onto the table. Angeline's eyes widened, realising he was about to do it in the middle of the dining room, on the same table they'd eaten on last night.

"Lay back," he said and Angeline obeyed.

She felt Mitch's hands smooth up her legs and then his lips were at her left knee. He kissed up the inside of her thighs, taking his sweet time and biting down slightly, listening to her breathy sounds. When he finally made it to the cotton shorts she was wearing, Angeline felt Mitch's fingers hook with the waistband and he tugged them down.

"Look at you," Mitch scoffed, "Not even wearing panties. Bet you were hoping for something like this to happen, hm?"

"Mitch," Angeline pleaded.

She felt a long, slender finger swipe through her soaked folds. Angeline nearly arched her back then and there as her slick arousal coated his finger. She covered her mouth with her hand as he glided his finger towards her clit where he began to rub small circles. Upon noticing that she was muffling her moans with her hand, Mitch delivered a sharp slap to her clit, making her jerk unexpectedly beneath him and cry out.

"Take your fucking hand away," Mitch demanded, returning to her clit as soon as he saw her obey. "Good girl. I want to hear those pretty sounds you make. The same ones I heard you making when you were getting yourself off in the motel bathroom the other day."

Angeline whimpered-- a mixture of his words and the skillfulness of his fingers. Her hands reached out to grab hold of anything, but there was nothing for her to hold as he rubbed her clit at a faster pace, making figure eights. She began to grope at her breasts through the black tee that Mitch had allowed her to borrow, the sight nearly making Mitch's eyes roll back.

He grabbed her by the waist, Angeline huffing as he had to take his hands away from her clit, and he yanked her down so she was close to the edge of the table. Then, she heard him get on his knees, his hot breath fanning her dripping pussy. She was unbelievably wet considering she'd been thinking of him doing this to her for a while now.

One of Mitch's fingers slid into her entrance, Angeline's breath hitching in response. One of her hands escaped her breast and she grabbed at his dark head of hair, tugging. Mitch groaned as he slid another finger in, pumping into her at a dangerously slow pace. Then, Angeline felt him spit on her pussy before landing his tongue against it.

"Oh, fuck!" Angeline whimpered, bucking her hips against him.

Mitch hummed into her, continuing with the thrusting of his fingers as he did kitten licks against her throbbing clit. She felt like she was about to explode, the most beautiful moans Mitch had ever heard coming from her mouth as she tilted her head back. She threw her legs onto his shoulders as he began to lap her juices up more eagerly now, done with the slow, teasing pace.

A third finger slid inside and Angeline groaned at the stretching sensation, his fingers fucking into her harder and harder. Mitch made sounds against her as he ate her out, the feeling pushing her closer and closer towards her inevitable finish. The sounds of how wet she was filled the room, her cheeks nearly blazing in embarrassment.

"Look how desperate you are," Mitch muttered as he pulled his mouth away, continuing to thrust his fingers inside. "So fucking wet for me. You're such a little slut, Angel."

"Shit!" Angeline cursed at the nickname.

His lips were against her and much more eager this time, making lewd slurping sounds. It didn't take long after that for her to cum, her moans growing louder and more frequent as she let go against him, her back arching and her the tight knot in her stomach easing off. Mitch played with her through it, only releasing her once she began to cry out at how sensitive she had become.

Her chest heaved, her eyes clenching shut as she lay there for a few seconds. She heard Mitch stand as she sat up, his eyes dark as he moved to stand between her legs again. Angeline opened her mouth, accepting his slender fingers as he hooked them inside, forcing her to suck them clean from her juices. She pulled off of him with a pop and slid off of the table.

Just as Mitch began to reach for the hem of his shirt, Angeline struck her hand out and stopped him. His brows furrowed as he peered down at her questioningly. Then, she pulled back up her shorts and shot him a smile.

"Oh, did you think I was going to suck you off as a thanks?" Angeline pouted at him, watching as his face contorted into an expression of anger. "What do you want, Mitch? A trophy that says 'thanks for eating me out?'"

Mitch's jaw clenched, his previous words and actions backfiring painfully.

"I still fucking hate you," she reminded him softly and then left the room, leaving Mitch with a more than painful hard-on that he would just have to deal with himself.

...

Angeline was more than satisfied. In fact, it felt like she was thriving. Sat on her bed with the clothes that Mitch had cleaned for her, post-orgasm from the finish that Mitch had also given her, she finally felt as though the stubborn man had had a taste of his own medicine. She hummed to herself as she sorted through her clothes, changing into something comfortable so that she could go back down the gym in a bit.

She wished she had her phone and some earphones with her, or anything to listen to music on really. Sometimes the silence felt off putting or boring, especially when she was lying in bed awake at night. She'd kill to just drift away from the reality of her universe and plunge herself into something else-- somewhere where people weren't after her, where she wasn't stuck with a man who clearly had some serious trust issues.

She waited a little while before she made her way down to the gym. She didn't see nor hear Mitch on the way down, and thankfully it was empty when she entered. Normally, Angeline didn't work out that often, but with nothing else to do, she thought it was a good distraction from thinking about the days that probably awaited her.

Often, she wondered what would happen first: would the CIA catch up to her father, would her father's opposition capture and torture her, or would her father end her life before she could spread the code that she had learned?

She really hoped, for the sake of not only herself but the cities that had been listed in the letter she'd seen, that it was the first option.

The exercise was supposed to take her mind off of these kinds of thoughts, but it was all she could think about as she ran on the treadmill, staring at the blank wall in front of her. Angeline would be lying if she said she wasn't terrified of what was going to happen. The idea of being tortured made her stomach twist, and so did the idea of ever having to look her father in the eye again.

Angeline ran for longer than she had expected, but eventually, like yesterday, the stitch in her side was tugging her away from her daydream land and causing her to stop the machine. She panted, her hands holding onto the handles until she glanced up, seeing Mitch had been watching her from by the stairs. Angeline paid him no attention as she moved across the room and reached down to grab her water bottle.

Gulping down the cold liquid as quick as she could, Angeline could only feel the hotness of her skin and the pounding of her heart until familiar hands planted on her hips. Mitch's lips were by her ear again.

"You're a tease," he whispered.

"So were you," Angeline shot back, turning around and squinting her eyes at him.

"But I think you'll give in," Mitch murmured, his deep voice sending chills down the girl's spine. "I think either way, this constant back and forth thing we seem to have going on isn't going to end until we both get what we want."

Angeline raised a brow, feeling her stomach do a flip. "And what is it exactly that you think the both of us want?"

"For me to fuck you," Mitch said bluntly, "Just like you deserve. Rough and hard."

Heat pooled between Angeline's legs and Mitch seemed to pick up on the way she shifted slightly. He smirked, his eyebrows quirking slightly. Angeline couldn't decide if she wanted to smack him in the face again or ram her lips against his and let him have her whatever way he wanted.

"Is that on the resume you had with my father?" She teased in a sultry tone. "Drop me off at school, go on coffee runs, pick me up from detentions... run away with me, fuck me and call me a slut?"

Mitch groaned. "Don't. Not unless you're actually willing to finish it properly this time."

"You want to fuck me, Mitch?" Angeline hummed as she reached beneath her shirt behind her back and undid her bra, sliding it down her arms and throwing it by his feet. "Then go ahead. Maybe you'll be better than Evan."

"Who the fuck is Evan?" Mitch's face scrunched up.

"The guy who fucked me at the motel whilst you were in bed, sleeping," Angeline grinned, watching the way he grew visibly angry. "Oh, you should have heard his dirty talk. Talking about how 'your boyfriend could never fuck you as good as this, could he?'"

A low growl came from the back of Mitch's throat and Angeline was pushed, once again, against a wall. He didn't waste his time attacking her lips again, his large hands hoisting her shirt over her head and revealing her breasts to him. Mitch palmed at them as his lips attached to her neck once more, biting and sucking.

His fingers tweaked at her nipples and caused her to cry out, one of her legs moving to wrap around his waist. When she felt his hands move underneath her, squeezing her ass, she did a little jump, wrapping both around him. He drove her back against the wall as he leaned down to nibble and kiss at any skin he could get access to whilst she rolled her hips against him in an effort to get off.

"Oh, I'll show you how much better I can fuck you than that sleazy motel boy," Mitch spat, "You'll be screaming my name, begging me to cum. Like the fucking slut that you are."

"Mhmm," Angeline whimpered against him, "Your-- your slut."

Mitch released her so she was standing and pulled down her shorts, taking her panties down with it. The cool air inside the gym contrasted harshly against her pulsating heat and she whimpered, her legs being forced apart when he once again drove his thigh between them. Her hands reached for his top and she yanked it over his head, his dark hair messing up a little until he shook it back into place.

Mitch reached between them and cupped her sex, a cocky smirk crossing his features when he discovered that she was still soaking like before. His thumb rubbed at her clit, but he knew he wasn't going to spend as much time on foreplay now-- she'd already gotten some about an hour ago.

His fingers swiped through her folds and Mitch thrust two inside of her, making come hither motions to try and find her g-spot. Angeline's legs felt weak, her body nearly collapsing against his broad chest as he fucked his fingers into her hard and fast.

"M-Mitch!" She called out.

"That's it," Mitch huffed, "Carry on whining like a little brat. It's all you're good for, isn't it?"

Her small hands were at the waistband of his gym shorts and she pushed them down, reaching into his underwear and pulling out his cock. It was already hard and leaking precum, twitching slightly in her hand as she jerked it up and down slowly.

"Don't be even more of a fucking tease," Mitch hissed.

Whilst he fingered her, Angeline picked up her pace on his cock, working her hand up and down his length and raising her thumb to swipe away at some of the precum. Mitch suddenly shoved her off of him and grabbed her by the hips. She was bent over some of the boxes that held gym equipment inside, her hand reaching to claw at the other end.

"Are you sure about this, Angeline?" He demanded, pumping his cock from behind her.

Angeline nodded quickly. "Please. Fuck me, Mitch."

His hand was on the small of her back, about to line himself up with her entrance, when he suddenly stopped. Angeline froze, peering across her shoulder at him.

"What?" She demanded impatiently.

"Condom," he replied bitterly, pulling away from her.

Angeline's heart sank and she couldn't realise how stupid and irresponsible she had been. She was glad he wasn't some teenage boy who would have totally taken advantage of her obliviousness, a sigh leaving her lips as she turned around.

He was yanking his shorts back up when Angeline grabbed his wrist. "I can still... get you off," she suggested.

Mitch stared down at her for a few seconds before nodding, his hand sliding back down to rub at her clit whilst she found his cock again.

...

Angeline felt strange having her second shower of the day, but it was needed after running on the treadmill and then spending time with Mitch afterwards. She glanced at herself in the mirror, raising her brows at the hickeys that were across her neck and collarbones. A small smirk took place on her lips and she shook her head.

Towel drying her hair quickly, Angeline wrapped the white fluffy material around her body and exited the ensuite into her bedroom, her body freezing completely when she came face to face with the barrel of a gun.

"You're a bad person, Angeline," Zimmerman whimpered, "Just like your family."


End file.
